


Imperfect Love Story

by Listae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Apple Pie Life, Dean in Panties, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2017, Divorce, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Infidelity, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:31:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 45,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listae/pseuds/Listae
Summary: Castiel would definitely have a word or two for those who believed love was a fairy tale. In his experience, love was a constant struggle with his and Dean’s inner demons and impossible expectations. Yes, Dean was always worth it, and it’s not like Cas didn’t have a crack in his chassis, but how the hell was his supposed to compete with an imaginary apple pie life?





	1. In an Open Relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right... So here I am, finally doing my first ever DCBB! This whole thing has been a bunch of firsts, to be honest, so I have a few people to thank.  
> Firstly, a big big thank you to my amazing Beta - Tennyo. I couldn't have wished for a better person to be my beta. I'd never had someone beta'ing for me before and I'm very lucky to have had Tennyo doing that for me and making the whole process as stressless as possible.  
> Secondly, I have to thank my very talented artist DGiggity, for choosing me despite having already chosen someone else and writing for DCBB as well. I'll never know how you managed all that, but I'm very grateful for the wonderful art you did for this fic. You rock!  
> And lastly - thanks to the mods. Thanks for keeping DCBB alive and just so you know - it's been a joy getting your instructions that even a first timer like myself could easily follow.  
> So here it is, the story I've been trying to write for nearly two years now...  
> Enjoy, L.

 

##  PROLOGUE

“I… Yes, I know I’m an idiot, Gabriel.” I agree. Of course I know. I’ve been an idiot for Dean for nearly half of my life now; it’s hardly news to me or anyone who knows me.

“Well, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He flails his arms exasperatedly. “I mean seriously, Cassie! How many times has that dick broken your heart by now?!”

“Three,” I tell him calmly and marvel privately how I’ve become someone who can discuss his foolish, battered heart so serenely. “But don’t forget that it was I who let him come back and do it again every time.”

“Well that’s my point exactly! You’re an idiot for him, Cassie, and you fucking need to stop! How many times do you have to come to me shaking all over and telling me he’s broken your heart?”

“I love him,” I say simply and I know it doesn’t excuse anything in Gabe’s book, but it pretty much excuses everything in mine. “I love him and that’s that.”

“Look, Columbo, I know you’re a teensy little bit crazy for that special snowflake, but even you have to know this is not what love is supposed to be!”

“No? And what is it supposed to be? Flowers and giggles?”

“It’s shits and giggles, Cassie, and no.” Gabriel sighs. “But it sure as hell is not your boyfriend dumping you for a cheerleader over a freaking gay panic; and it’s sure as hell not you calling off your wedding a week to the damn thing because of what that dick did to you; and it’s definitely not your husband leaving you for another family he found while married to you! And dammit, Cassie, it’s not you screwing your ex husband while he’s still with that said family!” 

“No?” I smile, if somewhat sadly. “Sure sounds like a love story to me…”

  
  


##  IN AN OPEN RELATIONSHIP

###  September, 2000

 

All things considered, English Lit is definitely not something one should study if his ambitions involve riches of any sort. Good thing then that mine certainly do not. I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I could remember myself. Books have always held a certain fascination for me – they offered freedom my home could not. I grew up in a strict household. It wasn’t unloving, but it was not the most giving either. 

My parents both worked full time, so more often than not my siblings and I were left to our own devices, nanny notwithstanding. Inias and Hester were both older than I, seven and six years older respectively, and Alfie was the youngest – two years younger than I. So naturally, Inias and Hester kept to themselves, while I took care of Alfie. 

Alfie was the reason I learned to read at the age of five. He was three when he was diagnosed with ALS. I remember him walking. Once. Then I remember him being in and out of hospitals. I remember countless hours that I spent in a hospital bed with him telling him stories I made up. We were always the heroes of my stories – brave kids in the colorful world of a five-year-old’s imagination.

Our mother read to us sometimes – stories about Peter Pan and Aladdin and Bluebeard, but she was always busy and I think… I think it was hard for her to see Alfie like that. It wasn’t hard for me – he was my little brother and I loved him. It was as simple as that.

Alfie loved it when our mother read him stories, so naturally when she couldn’t – I did. Comic books first. I didn’t read them, of course, not in the beginning, but I told him stories that went well with the pictures. I asked my nanny to teach me to read and I remember the time when I wouldn’t let go of the colorful alphabet book until I knew each letter and could read short words. 

Alfie was six and I was nearly nine when I read him a book that became our favorite book of all time – The Brothers Lionheart by Astrid Lindgren. It starts with Jonathan, the older brother, telling an ill and dying younger brother Karl a story about the afterlife. We both cried so much as I read it that my mother came to see what was happening. I thought she would ban the book, but she kissed our foreheads instead and promised it would get better.

Jonathan dies saving Karl in that book and I remember Alfie wrapping his stubbornly uncooperative and aching arms around me and making me promise I’d live my 80 years of life before I came to meet him in the afterlife. I’m twenty-one now and I’ve read this book countless times, and yet when I read it now, I still can’t hold my tears.

How can I not love books and how can I not want to write my own stories when I know what power they hold? It was books that helped two little kids fight a losing battle with a degenerative disease with laughter and whispered promises and jokes. It was stories that helped my little brother run wild and jump fences, swim in the ocean and climb the tallest mountains when his own body betrayed him so much he could no longer lift his hands. And finally it was books that helped my ten-year-old self to survive the loss of my little brother I loved more than anything in this world. 

So yes, riches are not my priority, they never were and so here I am, doing my BA in English Lit and creative writing at Boston University. I’m scoffed at more often than not  for wanting to write for kids, but I couldn’t care less. I also write science fiction and horror stories, because they amuse me and let me stretch my imagination wide, but even in those my main characters are usually children. And then there are no better readers than kids and no one can love the characters you create and storylines you weave more than a child.

It’s surprising, therefore, that Gabriel disagrees. Gabriel is my cousin, who is two years older than me on paper, but nearly ten years younger than me judging by how he acts. I love him, I really do, and I’m glad he’s at BU, too, because otherwise I don’t think I’d have any friends at all, but I could sure live without his constant tricks and never ending jokes. I think he somehow convinced himself his mission in life is to be the most annoyingly obnoxious human being in the whole world. He says he was born to entertain. So far the only person to find his antics entertaining is Gabriel himself, so I rest my case.

Anyway, it is of Gabriel’s doing that I find myself in the most unlikely of places for me – a frat house party. 

“Cassie, if you keep frowning like that, your face will get permanently stuck on the ‘I just ate a lemon’ setting.” Gabriel flops beside me on the couch by the wall. I roll my eyes.

“I’m not frowning, I’m squinting. I can barely see with all these flashes and to be honest I think they could actually induce seizures,” I nearly shout through the music, but Gabriel just laughs.

“Come on, Cassie! I didn’t bring you here so you can mope on a couch all night long. Come on, come on, go mingle!”

“From what you know about me, do you honestly think I'm capable of ‘mingling’?” And yes, I totally do the air quotes.

“Fair point.” He concedes and before I know it, I’m dragged across the room to a group of frat boys who I’m fairly certain are also a third of the BU baseball team. 

“Boys, boys, boys!” he singsongs and pushes between them, pulling me with him. “You have a greatest pleasure to meet the apple of my eye and everything I’m not, my dearest and nearest cousin – Cassie!”

They stare at me and then at Gabriel like we’re both insane. I can’t say I blame them.

“It’s Castiel.” I say. “And I’m sorry for this. Gabriel, leave them alone.”

“Now, now. Where’s your team spirit?” he chides and I groan inwardly. “These here are our alma mater’s finest baseball players, Cassie,” he tells me, and I see the gleefulness in his eye that never means anything but trouble. He turns to them. “And here, boys, is a writer that will soon be your all time literacy achievement. You see, Cassie here wants to write books for tykes just like you. Know your audience, Cassie, toodles!” And just like that, with the blink of an eye he’s gone and I’m standing there alone facing five baseball players, four of which are glaring bloody murder. With a very eloquent “Um…” I focus on the fifth one. Just like the rest of them he is tall and broad shouldered, but unlike the rest of them he’s… smiling.

“Just what the hell was that all about?” one of them yells, and I take a hesitant step back.

“Well… It would seem that my cousin insinuated you are as mentally developed as prepubescents for whom I plan to write my books. He has also left me here for tearing should I not be smart enough to get out of your sight before the message filters through your not insubstantial skulls. In all fairness it seems I still have time for a couple of drinks before that happens, so please, do take your time and think this through while I go grab myself a beer,” is what my foolish mouth says as I step away from them. Yes, so Gabriel and I are related after all. 

I weave through the crowd quickly, because no matter what I said, it really doesn’t take a genius to get I just insulted the whole bunch of them. I’m nearly at the door when I hear an uproar begin behind me. Before I reach it though, I’m grabbed by the elbow and pulled down the hallway to an empty room. I spin around to see who’s dragging me and I see the smiling guy from before closing the door silently and shushing me with a finger to his lips. I can hear feet stomping as god knows how many of them run outside trying to find me. Once the front door closes with a thud, the guy smiles again and lowers his hand.

“So you have a death wish?” is the first thing he says and I really can’t help it, I laugh.

“I’m fast,” I tell him, still laughing. I think it’s actually adrenaline.

“Yeah, and an idiot to boot. You have any idea what they’d do to you if they caught you?”

“I’m more interested why you’re here helping me as opposed to being with them and doing the aforementioned unspeakable things to me?”

“Dude! Who the hell talks like that?”

“Clearly not the baseball team.” I can’t help myself.

“You do have a death wish.” He chuckles and extends his hand for a handshake. “Dean.”

“Castiel.” I shake his hand.

“Do you mind if I call you Cas?” he asks. “Or do you prefer Cassie?”

“I don’t prefer Cassie under any circumstances.” I frown. “Gabriel is the only one to get away with calling me this and that’s only because I really don’t think there’s anything I could do to stop him and it would be inevitably worse if I tried. There was a time when he thought calling me Cassiopeia was acceptable in public. Or Casio. And don’t get me started on his Casserole phase…”

Dean laughs at that. “That guy is something else.”

“You haven’t answered me. Why are you helping me? I kind of insulted the whole bunch of you.”

“Nah, dude, I’m fine. I have a soft spot for sarcasm and it’s only an insult if you actually don’t get what’s been said, so… Anyway, it takes guts to say something like that and I wanted to know what kind of a guy you are after all.”

“Oh… Well in that case, hello Dean,” I say with a smile and he laughs again.

“Yeah, hi, Cas,” he says, and we smile at each other. This is how I meet the love of my life.

 

###  November, 2000

 

“Dean, you cannot be serious!” I all but whine. “Do you think I don’t get enough of Gabriel as it is?”

“Come on, Cas! Don’t be an ass. I went to that stupid foreign movie with you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, I think Jen’s gonna be there and I need my wingman.”

I snort at that.

“Since when do you need my help to get laid, Dean?”

“I don’t.” He laughs. “But you need to learn a trick or two. Seriously, dude! I’ve never even seen you with anyone – you need to get laid.”

“Just because I don’t show up with a new girl every time I go out doesn’t mean I don’t know how to get one. And I do get laid, thank you very much.”

And it’s true. I have this sort of… Well, almost friends with benefits arrangement with Meg. And the almost part doesn’t come from the benefits – those are a sure thing. It’s just I’m still not sure if I can call her my friend. Meg is… Different. She’s wild and feisty and I love that about her, but she also has a mean streak that I’m just not sure about.

“You do know beating off doesn’t count as getting laid, right?”

“Yes, Dean, I’m aware. But thank you for trying to enlighten me.” I roll my eyes.

“So you’re seriously telling me you’re seeing someone? Then why are you hiding her?” he asks, and then brightens. “She’s ugly, isn’t she?”

“Well firstly, I wouldn’t be attracted to someone based on their looks only,” I start, but he cuts me off.

“Knew it! Ugly!”

“She’s not ugly.” I roll my eyes. “As a matter of fact, she’s really pretty. But what I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted, is that I like people, not their looks.”

“Save this shit for the chicks, buddy.” He nudges my shoulder.

“Why the hell am I even talking to you?” I marvel. “It’s clear you are yet to reach the maturity of a sponge.”

“Nah, you love me.” Dean laughs. “Anyway, go, go! Get your ass into something that fits you better than these terrible slacks and let’s go.”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my slacks,” I mumble, but I do get up from the couch we’ve been lounging on for the last couple of hours. In fact, we’ve been spending a lot of time in my apartment since the day we met. Dean’s roommate Roy is an ass, so he likes to come over to watch movies or play games or just to hang out. Lately I’ve managed to convince him to come study, because honestly, there’s so much of  _ Star Trek _ I can take. And don’t get me started on that awful, awful show  _ Cleopatra 2525 _ Dean made me watch, because he thinks the women in it are hot. Seriously, sometimes I wonder why I’m even friends with this guy. Apart from the fact that he’s actually a great guy – he’s caring and fun to be around and he’s actually wicked smart, even though he goes to great lengths to hide this. He’s also a bundle of issues, but then again – who isn’t?

I change into jeans and henley that Meg says makes me look hot and frown at myself in the mirror. I do really hate parties.

“Stop moping in there and come on!” Dean shouts from the living room, and with a last sigh, I walk out my bedroom and let Dean drag me along to yet another frat house party.

 

I think I’m buzzed. No, scratch that, I’m definitely buzzed. Of course, that’s the only reason I’m still here after all – there’s no way I could ever survive parties like this without getting at least a little bit drunk. And it’s because I’m a little drunk I let Meg straddle me on the couch and suck bruising kisses down my neck and collarbone.

When we got to this party, Dean was straight away ambushed by his jock friends and their groupies, so I was left to my own devices. The last time I actually saw them, I think it was half an hour ago or so, just before Meg came over, they were all actually pretty hammered and were starting a game of truth or dare. I think my assessment of them being at the prepubescent state of development was rather accurate. Except for the hammered part. Which, to think of, I suppose I should actually sober up a little, since I will definitely have to drag Dean home. Unless he gets laid, that is.

Speaking of Dean. I hear a roaring laughter at the far corner of the room and as both Meg and I look up to see what’s that about, I’m met with Dean’s calculating stare. His friends are laughing and nudging each other, but Dean seems to be deliberating something. I cock my eyebrow in question and Dean takes a deep breath and starts weaving through the crowd to come over. He doesn’t break the eye contact until he reaches us and when he finally does, he mumbles a slurred ‘excuse me’ to Meg and pretty much drags me up from the couch, making Meg shuffle back. She hisses something that I’m pretty sure is an elaborate insult towards Dean, but I can’t focus on that, because at that exact same moment Dean reaches for me, wraps his hand around the back of my neck and yanks me forward so he can kiss me. Now, I’m usually quite well versed and I nearly always have things running through my head, but in that moment I feel as blank as a sheet of paper. There’s a pleasant, numb buzzing in my head as Dean tilts his head a little to fit our lips better and then slides his tongue along my bottom lip before sucking it in. I let it go on for couple of seconds, the blankness dissipating slowly, replaced with jolting realization – it’s a dare. Well, alright then. I pull back so our foreheads are touching just slightly.

“You fucker, I knew you were hot for me.” I whisper and try to suppress the grin while Dean looks at me, his eyes huge and confused. I finally grin and ask. “Dare?”

It takes a second for him to understand, but then he grins too, knowing full well I don’t actually think he’s into me.

“Alright then, let’s dare,” I tell him, and then I kiss him. I grab the back of his head to angle him just right and probe his lips with the tip of my tongue. I think he opens up in surprise, but I plunge my tongue deeper all the same, letting it tangle lazily with Dean’s. I’ve been with a few guys before, so the scrape of stubble and hard chest pressed to mine doesn’t startle me, but I think it does Dean, because he’s suddenly clutching my waist where he rested his hands a second ago. I think I hear a groan reverberate through him, but it’s loud in the room so I can’t be sure. What I can be sure of, though, is the hardening stiffness I feel where he’s pressed against me. As soon as I realize that, there’s a very real bolt of want zinging through me and now I groan as Dean sucks my bottom lip into his mouth again. Before either of us can do anything else we hear catcalls and whistles erupt all around us and Dean jolts back with a start. We stare at each for a few heartbeats still, eyes darting to each other’s mouths, but then Dean’s friends are clapping him on the back and dragging him back to their game. Game, it’s  _ a game _ , I remind myself, but before I can parse what just happened, I can feel Meg wrap herself around my back.

“Damn, that was fucking hot, Clarence!”

“Um…” I mutter eloquently.

“Did he break you?” She smirks and finally, finally I get my footing back and turn to her.

“No, I think it’s the other way around.” I grin. “I am told I’m an excellent kisser.”

“You’re always going to hold that against me, aren’t you?” Meg laughs.

“Can you blame me? It’s not every day someone tells me they could probably get off just from me kissing them.”

“I knew it’d bite me in the ass.” She pouts. “But what can I do? You’re my unicorn.”

“As long as you don’t ask me to fart rainbows,” I tell her seriously, and then we’re laughing again. Just like that I think I got my equilibrium back and just like that the world tilts again, because the next second I glance at Dean and find him watching me. There’s an odd expression on his face, a mix of curiosity and incredulity, I think. I cock my eyebrow at him in question, but he just shakes his head and turns back to his friends.

“I think you just rocked his world.” Meg giggles and settles back on my lap.

“I highly doubt it.” I tell her truthfully and try to push the whole thing out of my head. I’d be more successful if not another 15 minutes later, as I go to get another drink – I’m not in the mood of staying sober after all – I get an armful of Dean again. He’s swaying, clearly drunk, and using me as a crutch to stand.

“Caaaas…” he slurs. “I’m waaasted.”

“Very eloquent, Dean,” I chuckle. 

“How’d you not… drunk?” he stammers again and I laugh.

“Oh, trust me, I am, just not your level of drunk. So, do you need me walk you home? Or are you crashing here?”

“Home… you…” He’s very nearly asleep as he is, so I sigh and fold my arm under his, so I’m pretty much doing the standing for the both of us.

“Roy’s going to kill you.”

“Home! You!” He whines again. “With you…”

“You want me to take you to my apartment?” I ask, and he nods and grins sappily.

“Jesus, how much have you had?” I ask him shaking my head.

“Home…” he mutters yet again, and with the sigh I wave at Meg and start walking Dean to my apartment.

In the time it takes me to drag Dean across the campus, he sobers up a little. I know he’s still pretty drunk, judging by the way he clings to me and stumbles every few steps, but he’s no longer half asleep at least. Regardless, I help him up the steps, lead him to my kitchen and before anything else, I pour him a big glass of water. As he drinks it, I get him a spare blanket and a pillow and then walk him to the couch. He flops down on it heavily and sighs.

“Fuck, I’m drunk…”

“That happens when you drink a liquor store.” I chuckle and turn to leave, but before I go, he grabs my hand and pulls me down with him. I admit - the squeak I let out is the farthest thing from manly, so I’m not surprised he starts laughing. I scowl, while I arrange myself so I’m not crushing him, but rather slumping on the other end of the couch.

“Don’t go.” He hiccups. “I wanna talk.”

“Dean, you’re barely awake.” I smile at his pout, but he shakes his head and sits up a little.

“Cas, can I ask you something?”

“I think you just did.”

“You know your jokes are lame, smartass?”

I laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense, Dean.”

“Your face doesn’t even make sense,” he mutters and I laugh again.

“So what did you want to ask me?”

“It’s like… You know how… I mean…”

“Is there an end to this sentence somewhere?”

“Jesus, just let me talk! So… Fuck.” He takes deep breath and then mumbles the question so quickly I barely catch it. “Have you ever been with a dude?”

I consider him for a moment. Sexual histories are not something we ever shared, beyond some jokes and teasing. It’s not like I think it’d matter to him, but I’ve seen enough to know some people just can’t get over their hang-ups. Then again, Dean did kiss me and didn’t even freak out significantly after. So I shrug and decide to tell him the truth.

“Couple of times, yes.”

His eyes widen minutely. “And um… I mean… What’s it like?”

I briefly wonder what kind of can of worms did that kiss actually open, but since I already decided to go with the truth, I shrug again.

“What’s it like for you with women?” I ask.

“You know what’s it like with women.” He says frowning. “If nothing else, I’m sure Meg has shown you a thing or two.”

I stare at him for a second surprised at the petulance in his voice. This night just keeps getting weirder.

“But what’s it like to you?” I insist.

“Amazing. Mostly.”

“Exactly,” I tell him. “It depends on whom you’re with. If the guy knows what he’s doing or at the very least is not a selfish bastard, it can be pretty amazing. But sometimes it’s just not.”

“Yeah, but I mean… How do you even know who’s supposed to do what? I mean… you know…”

I laugh at that.

“Dean, you are aware people can actually talk to each other? You talk!”

“So, but… You like it both ways?”

“Um, well… I do have a preference, but not an overly strong one, so yes, I suppose I do like it both ways.”

He hums thoughtfully.

“Dean, why the sudden interest?” I ask.

“I’ve never been with a guy,” Dean says slowly.

“Well… Have you ever wanted to?” I ask curiously. I understand Dean’s only talking about this because he’s drunk and we kissed, but I still hope I’m not taking advantage of his state. He asked me first and I was honest with him, so perhaps he won’t be mad that I asked as well. Besides, I really do want to know. Dean is… Well, he’s my best friend by this point, but I’m neither blind, nor ignorant. He’s very handsome, but beside that, or despite of that, or whatever, he’s actually an amazing person. He’s kind and caring and he’s wildly protective of his friends and family. Yes, he can sometimes be an ass, but overall, if that was at all in the cards, I could see myself falling for him easily. He’s… significant, all things considered, so I really do want to know.

“I don’t think I have.” He says quietly and there it is. Whatever latent hope I had been harboring, it’s over now. Dean is straight and while I might sometimes be a stubborn jackass, even I know pining after straight boys is at the very least stupid. So I close my eyes and force myself to smile.

“I can tell you what’s it like with women then.”

He snorts.

“Right, like you can tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your modesty astounds me., I deadpan and we both laugh, but then Dean groans.

“Cas, d’you wanna watch TV with me? My head’s spinning…”

“Yes, I guess I better should.” I nod, turn the TV on and settle into the coach comfortably. I really shouldn’t leave him alone – he’s way too drunk for my liking. Besides I don’t think it’ll take more than couple of minutes before he’s out anyway – he’s nearly passing out as it is. I’m not entirely right though, because about 15 minutes later, when I’m pretty sure he’s asleep already, Dean speaks up suddenly.

“I kissed a boy once.”

I turn to him fully, but he doesn’t meet my eyes.

“You did?” I ask carefully. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not much of a story,” he mutters and I think that’ll be it, but Dean continues. “I was 10, I think. He was my best friend. It was his birthday.”

“What was his name?” I ask trying to make Dean a little more comfortable. I can see now that he’s tense and his voice is strained.

“Rob. His name’s Rob,” he tells me quietly. “Anyway, I remembered mom kissing my cheek when she’d give me something she knew I’d like, or when she was trying to cheer me up. So… I brought him a gift and I kissed his cheek.”

“He must’ve been happy.” 

“He was, for a second. Then we were all scared.”

“Scared? Why’s that?” I ask confused.

“Because my dad saw it and he threw a shitstorm,” he says in an emotionless voice that is the most concerning of everything that happened tonight.

“Why would he?...” I try to ask, but Dean laughs bitterly.

“My dad’s a mean drunk, Cas. It was a birthday party for a 10 year old, and still he was hammered within an hour. So. When he saw his oldest son kissing his best friend like some ‘disgusting fag’, he threw a fit. He yelled and yelled at me and I think our neighbors were shocked at first, so they let it go on for a long time. Or at least I thought so then. Anyway, Rob’s dad had a mean right hook, so he clocked my dad and threw him out. There were words exchanged, I didn’t get the majority of it. But I remember my dad telling me as he dragged me home that if he ever saw me even making ‘fag eyes’ at anyone ever again, he’d kick me out of the house and never let me see Sammy again.”

“Jesus, Dean…” I mutter, quite frankly shocked.

“The funny thing – I don’t think he wasn’t serious. He’d have thrown me out if by the time I actually hit puberty I’d shown any interest in guys.” He carries on with the same emotionless voice. “So I didn’t.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and then I reach out and wrap my fingers around Dean’s wrist gently. “Fuck, Dean, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think he even remembers Rob’s birthday, you know? The next morning he couldn’t understand why his jaw ached where Rob’s dad clocked him. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t being serious.”

“No, it doesn’t., I agree. “It also doesn’t excuse him.”

“No, it doesn’t,“ he agrees and I squeeze his wrist once again.

“You are the first guy I  _ really _ kissed,” he says after a bit and finally meets my eyes. “And the first who kissed me back.”

“Well… I’m sorry it was on a dare, then. Although I am told I’m an excellent kisser.” I smile and he chuckles before becoming serious again.

“Dean, you know he was wrong, right?” I ask.

“Yeah, I know.” He nods without looking at me.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking guys,” I reiterate and he nods again. “There’s also nothing wrong with not liking them.” I finish and he looks up. “Dean, you’re a person, not a sexuality. It’s absurd to place such importance in this one thing. What we are is the sum of everything about us, so defining someone by what they like to do in the privacy of their bedroom is beyond ridiculous…”

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks, suddenly cutting me off and frankly I’m so surprised that I gape at him for a few seconds.

“Why?” I finally stammer, because didn’t he just say he never wanted to?

“Because… Um… I kind of… I think I liked it.”

I blink at him owlishly. Seriously, I’m pretty sure I look like a moron by now, but it’s just so hard to wrap my head around the fact that Dean wants to kiss me again.

“Dean, how drunk are you now?” I finally ask and he chuckles.

“Not that drunk. Look, Cas, I know it’s messed up and probably all kinds of not fair to you, but you’re my best friend and the only one I’m actually comfortable with. And I didn’t kiss you on a dare. Well, yeah, I kinda kissed you on a dare, but the dare was to kiss a guy, not specifically you. I think Matt wanted me to kiss him, to be honest. But I couldn’t even think about it not being you. So. I mean if you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really. I guess I shouldn’t have asked… You know, forget it. Can we just pretend all of this didn’t just happen?”

I can see he’s anxious and ashamed, so I do the only thing I can think of and I kiss him. It’s different this time. Dean’s surprised at first, but he melts into the kiss all the same. His hands clutch my t-shirt and he pulls me even closer all the while kissing me, if a tad desperately. I ease off slightly, not moving far, just resting my forehead against his. “I think I liked it too,” I tell him, and he smiles and kisses me again. It’s surprising how right this feels. I never consciously thought of Dean this way. Yes, a few inappropriate thoughts did cross my mind, but I’ve been burned enough not to dwell on impossible crushes on straight men, especially if those straight men are my friends. So I pushed these thoughts away. Now though… Now, with a heavy weight of his hands on my hips and warm softness of his mouth on mine, I can’t stop but think how amazing this feels. We kiss for a long time. It’s not urgent anymore, exploring and comforting more than anything else. We’re both tired and frankly drunk, so in the end we share a couple of more sleepy kisses and drift off to sleep.

 

I wake up from a marvelous feeling of being pushed off the couch. To make things even more delightful I get the wind knocked out of me by a heavy body landing squarely on top of me. Amazing. I groan pitifully and push said body off me.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” I grumble. “Did you seriously just push me off the couch?”

“Sorry.” Dean groans near me. “My arm fell asleep and you were lying on top of it and I just tried to get it out.”

“Hell of a wakeup call.” I glare at him still.

“Sorry,” he says again and shifts on his elbow so he’s nearly over me. We look at each other for a while and finally I chuckle.

“So that  _ did  _ happen, huh?”

Dean blushes slightly and smiles.

“I kind of thought it was a dream for a little while,” he says.

“Are you in a habit of dreaming about making out with your best friends?” I ask and his blush deepens. “Jesus, you are!”

“I might’ve had an inappropriate dream about you. Once. Or twice.”

“Really? Care to share?”

“No. No, no, no.” He shakes his head and we both laugh.

“You never said anything,” I tell him and he nods.

“Not sure if you noticed, but I’m really not a sharing type.” He sighs and sits up. I get up and look at him expecting him to continue. He does.

“Look, Cas… I’m… Jesus. Okay, so yesterday’s chick flick was more than enough for me, so I’ll make it short. I’m fucked up, Cas. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know a couple of things for sure. First, I’m not looking for any sort of relationship. I mean yesterday was… Fuck, it was great, but I can’t be with a guy, okay? I just can’t. Definitely not now, but maybe not ever, so there’s that. And I’m sorry if I pushed you into it, but Cas, I really can’t.”

“Dean,” I interrupt, placing my hand on his shoulder. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes. “You’re getting way ahead of yourself here. You didn’t push me into anything I didn’t want and it’s okay not to want any relationship. It bothers me you feel you can’t, because it’s not fair to you – you should know and be able to do whatever you want, but not wanting a relationship is completely understandable.”

“That’s the thing, Cas… I want parts of it. I want to kiss you again and I want way more than just kissing you, but… I don’t want any strings and I don’t want to be a boyfriend to anyone, much less have one.”

“Is this your very complicated way of asking me if I want to be your fuck buddy?” I ask fighting a grin. It’s slightly disappointing Dean doesn’t want a relationship, because I, for one, would definitely give him a shot, but at the same time it’s still much more than I ever thought he would want. So.

“No, because there’s a second thing I know for sure and that’s that I don’t want to lose you. You’re my best friend and I won’t do anything to put that in danger. I need you, buddy.”

“Why would you lose me?” I ask, genuinely surprised.

“Because I don’t know anyone who’s had a successful fuck buddy arrangement. Feelings get involved and then someone gets hurt and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“You seem awfully sure I’d be the one getting my feelings hurt.”

“Well, who wouldn’t fall for me?” He grins cheekily and I laugh.

“Seriously – you and your modesty. Look, Dean, the truth is we made out once and suddenly I’m getting my feelings hurt over unrequited love. You’re my best friend too, and I care about you, but I’ve never really been in love and I don’t think I’m at a risk of falling for you. Would I give you a shot if you wanted to date and stuff? Sure. Am I fine with no strings attached kind of thing? Hell, yes. We’re 21, Dean. And in college. And I’m not delusional. So if you want a fuck buddy kind of thing, why don’t you ask me, instead of assuming how madly in love I’m gonna be.”

“You really think we could be okay with that?” he asks, and I can see hope in his eyes.

“I don’t see why not. We just need to agree to tell each other if at any point either one of us starts getting too attached. Then we’ll just go back to being friends. It’s as easy as that,” I tell him firmly, not knowing that there will be a time I’ll be eating my own words. But everything’s possible when you’re in your early twenties and you’re never at risk of a broken heart until one day you find yourself unable to breathe with how much it hurts.

“Cas, do you want to be my fuck buddy?” Dean asks grinning brightly.

“Why, I thought you would never ask!” I reply with a faux Southern belle accent and we burst out laughing again. 

“So, you wanna go brush our teeth and make out some more?”

 

###  May, 2001

 

I wake up to Dean sleeping with his head on my chest, his arm wrapped around my middle and his thigh wedged between my legs. He’s a cuddler, Dean. Ever since we first had sex, back in December, I routinely wake up wrapped in his limbs. It wasn’t easy at first. Dean was freaking out so much back then I had to talk him through the simplest of things. Even now, this mental block he gets sometimes when he realizes he’s sucking dick and he likes it, is difficult on both of us. But it’s getting better. Much better, really. He’s much more relaxed and he enjoys the things we do so much that it’s the biggest turn on for me ever.

I stretch carefully trying not to disturb him, but he tightens his hold on me nonetheless. He does that sometimes too – holds me as if I was the one trying to get away. That’s not true though, and it’s not how this arrangement works. Dean is the one setting the rules and boundaries. If it was up to me, I’d be with him all the time, but Dean was very clear with me – that’s not what he wants. It’s alright; it’s still more than I ever thought I’d have. Besides, I can see it changing for him too. 

In the beginning he’d only come over once or twice a week and we didn’t even necessarily get up to something – sometimes we simply hooked up my Playstation and played all night long. He started coming over more often by the end of February and by now he spends 4-5 days a week with me and I don’t even remember when was the last time he spent the night on the couch. We also get out more. At first we’d only stay at my place or go out with a bunch of his friends, and never alone. Now, however, the two of us go out quite a lot by ourselves and some of the outings are very much like dates. He’d never call it that, of course, but what else do you call taking someone to dinner, then movies and finally going back to their place for drinks and sex? In my books it’s a date. 

There were also other things, like him coming with me to dinner with Hester and Inias and me going to Sam’s debates with him. Or going on a road trip for our spring break – full week of days spent driving in his beloved car and nights huddled in the beds of frankly questionable motels. Or just last week, him sitting with me by Alfie’s grave, his arms around my waist and his head on my shoulder. I’d told him about my little brother and he’d insisted on coming with me to visit him. I never felt more grateful to have Dean in my life. I might’ve even said something to this accord to Dean when we were driving back. And naturally he freaked out some, but I think we’ve moved past it. So yes, I know this is just an arrangement for him, but there’s this relentless hope I have that maybe someday it doesn’t have to be just that. It’s stupid, I know, but sometimes he looks at me like he has the same hope and so I let it continue, even though it was I who said we should tell each other if either one of us starts getting too attached. It’s too late for me by now anyway.

Dean stirs in my arms, stretching and flexing muscles that must be sore from holding me tightly the entire night. I chuckle and kiss the top of his head.

“What time is it?” he asks; his voice low and sleepy.

“Around 8.” I yawn. “You have a class at 9.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, and I chuckle again as he scrambles off the bed and darts to the shower. By the time he’s out, I have our coffees and toasts ready. He gulps what must be half the cup of coffee and starts on his toast.

“Hey, I was thinking about Crossroads after the thing tomorrow,” I tell him.

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot!” I laugh. Dean had wanted to go to Linkin Park’s concert from the moment he heard on the radio that they’d be coming to Boston. The tickets were nearly impossible to get and way too expensive for a couple of college students, but I had some savings and Gabe knows some people so in the end I got us the tickets. I don’t think I ever saw Dean as excited as when I showed him the tickets. “Linkin Park, Dean!”

“Oh, fuck!” He groans. “Fuck, I completely forgot! How could I have forgotten?”

“I’ve no idea.” I laugh again. “You talked about this for weeks and now you forgot?”

“Jesus, Cas, I’m so sorry!”

“Why?” I frown.

“You remember our new cheerleader – Cassie? I’ve been asking her out this whole week and she finally agreed to go on a date with me tomorrow…”

“A date?” I ask and then mentally make myself stop. He has a date. A date. “Oh… well…”

“Fuck, Cas, I really am sorry! I completely forgot about the show. Look, maybe I can reschedule? I mean she’s gonna be pissed, but it’s not like Linkin Park is coming every…”

He keeps saying something, but I tune him out for a little bit. Dean has a date. It shouldn’t surprise me and I’m pissed at myself that it does. I’m furious that it actually hurts me. He said very clearly from the very beginning he had no interest in a relationship with me so why? Why the hell does it hurt? When did it stop being purely physical to me? Was it ever? And again, why does this hurt?

“Cas?” I hear, and I shake myself out of this stupid hurt.  _ Not now _ , I tell myself, just not now. He can never know.

“Sorry, I spaced out. What were you saying?”

“I just… look, I’ll call Cassie and try to move the date to Sunday, okay?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dean,” I tell him trying to sound indifferent. “You have plans, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! I wanted to go! And you got tickets for us and I really wanna go…”

“Of course you want to go.” I cut him off. “That’s not what I meant. You wanted to go to this thing from the moment you heard about it – of course you’re going.”

I turn away from him and get the tickets from the counter.

“There. Take your girl to a nice show; I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” I hand him the tickets not meeting his eyes.

“What? No! Jesus, Cas, I can’t do that. You bought the tickets for us, how could you think I’d do that?”

By now I feel completely numb and blank save from the mantra of “not now” going through my head.

“Dean, we both know you wanted this much more than I ever did. So take the tickets and go have a great date,” I tell him firmly. I can already feel my numb mask cracking at the edges, but I hold onto my impassive face as best as I can. He can’t know.

“Fuck, Cas… I’m sorry, I really wanted to…”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” I say and get my mug once again. My hand is shaking so I clutch it tightly in both hands. “You should go or you’ll be late for your class.”

He glances at his watch and curses silently.

“Fuck, yeah, I gotta go. Look, I’ll be back after class, okay? We can hang out today.”

Oh, no!

“Um, actually I have been putting off two of my papers and I really need to get to them done, so today’s not the best for me.”

“You sure? I can come later, after you’ve finished.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ll be able to finish them today. There was a reason why I postponed it to the last minute – they both suck.” I force myself to smile. “So I really can’t do anything else today.”

“No, I get it. Um… How about Sunday? We could go see a movie or something.”

Jesus, why is he doing this to me?

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll call you when my papers are done, we can hang out then. Now you really need to go – you’re almost late. And don’t forget the tickets.” I turn away from him and back to my coffee, so he doesn’t try kissing me goodbye. He’s been doing it more and more lately. I wait for the click of my door being shut, but he doesn’t leave.

“Cas, are we… Is everything okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?” I tell him calmly although there’s part of me that wants to scream and lash out. He’s breaking my heart here and he’ll never know. It’s my own fault anyway.

“You seem… Is it about the date? Because I really can reschedule.”

“Don’t be absurd, Dean. You’re going to have a great time on your date and I’m sure you’ll score some points for taking her to a concert. All good.”

“I’ll pay you back,” he promises, and I scoff internally. Right, money’s what I care about.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s already paid for and it’s not a big deal. Just… Well, have a good time.”

“Uh… Thanks, Cas. I kinda feel like a dick and I really do owe you one.”

“As I said – don’t worry about it. And you’re already late, by the way.”

“Fuck!” He curses and scrambles to leave. “I’ll call you later, okay? Don’t spend the whole day on those goddamn papers!”

As soon as I hear the door close, I bang my head against the table. What an idiot! What the hell was I thinking? I knew this! I knew he didn’t want me, not really, so why the hell did I start hoping? And why the hell does this hurt so much? 

He has a date. A date with someone he’s been trying to ask out the whole week. He clearly likes that girl and… And so what if he spends the nights with me – it’s obviously just an itch to scratch. Fuck, what a goddamned idiot I am!

I wipe furiously at my eyes. I won’t let this become worse than it already is. Dean doesn’t want me and that’s that. I just need some time and distance and I’ll get over him. After all, I don’t pine after impossible and Dean is absolutely that. 

I just need to get away for a little while and I know just the right place to go to.

 

“I screwed up, Gabe.” I tell him and sink onto the couch. “I’m such an idiot…”

“You’re starting to scare me, Cassie. What could you have possibly done? Did you get someone pregnant?”

“No.” I shake my head and sigh. “I think I fell in love.”

“Um… So? I mean as long as it’s not that creepy professor of yours, Mr. Miller, how bad can it be? It’s not Mr. Adler, is it? Oh fuck, is it me?”

I can help the laugh escaping me at that. 

“Firstly, if I’d fallen for Mr. Adler I’d be admitting myself to a mental facility right now. The man’s creepy as hell. And secondly, Gabe, that’s disgusting! You?”

“Hey, I might be on the shorter side, but I’m hot stuff. And there’s nothing short about me where it matters, if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows and I roll my eyes.

“You’re my cousin, Gabe. More of a brother really.”

“So what is it then? Who got your panties in a twist?”

“Look, I’m going to tell you, because frankly I don’t have anyone else to talk about this to, but you have to promise me you’ll never breathe a word of it to anyone. And I’m serious Gabriel, not a word.”

He frowns at me for a second, but then shrugs.

“Fine. Who’d I tell anyway?”

“Knowing you? The entire freakin’ school.”

“Jesus, way to be overdramatic, Cassie. Come on, spill.”

“Dean.”

“Dean?! As in Dean Winchester? As in hunky jock Dean? As in your second best friend after me, Dean?”

“Well, do you know any other Dean?” I mutter.

“Wait, wait, wait! I thought after Michael you were done pining after straight guys!”

“Um, well… He’s not… He’s not exactly straight.” I admit sheepishly. I remember the time this actually made me quite happy, now though… It doesn’t really matter if a guy’s straight or not when he’s just not into me.

“Seriously?” Gabe chuckles. “You’re seriously telling me ‘Mister Manly Man Straight as an Arrow Dean’ is into your hot ass?”

“This is wrong on so many levels, Gabe…” I groan. “And he’s not exactly into me. We just had…”

“Oh fuck, don’t tell me you had a drunken one night stand and then he freaked out?”

“If you’d let me talk, I’d tell you what I mean!” I snap at him. For the life of me I don’t know what possessed me to speak to Gabe about all this. Oh, right, I don’t have anyone else to talk to.

“Fine, fine, Cassie. Sorry. So tell me how is he not exactly straight and not exactly into you. But damn, I’d never figured he’d be into your little ass.”

“Again, not exactly.” I groan. That’s true though, because even though Dean insisted on topping in the beginning, he was really fascinated by the way I liked it. So when I managed to convince him to at least try bottoming, it was a rather shocking surprise for both of us how into it he was. We switch, of course, but it works out for us beautifully, because he has a slight preference for bottoming and I have one for topping. Except for the part where he’s not into me. Fuck.

“Look, Gabe, what happened is… We had an arrangement. You know, friends with benefits kind of thing. Neither of us was interested in a relationship and we do like each other and we’re friends, so it was pretty much perfect. Until I had to go and screw things up by falling for him.”

“Friends with benefits? You?” He asks incredulously.

“Don’t be so surprised, I had the same thing going with Meg,” I tell him.

“So… You had an arrangement. You’d fallen in love. What about him? Are you sure you’re the only one in this?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.” I sigh. “He has a date tomorrow. With somebody he’s been trying to convince to go out with him for a while.”

“Wait, but isn’t tomorrow that concert you begged me to get the tickets for?” He frowns and I sigh again.

“Yes, it is. Apparently, he forgot. So now he’s taking her to the concert.”

“What?!” Gabe snaps. “I got those tickets for you! How dare he?”

“He didn’t. I told him to go with her.”

“What?!” He snaps again. “Why?”

“Because he likes her,” I tell him simply. And it is simple to me. “You should’ve seen him. He likes her and… Fuck.”

“Jesus, Cassie, you are an idiot. Why would you give your tickets so he can take someone else on a date?”

“Because I want him to have fun, Gabe. He wanted to go to that concert from the moment he heard about it and he really wants to go out with that girl, so… Besides, I really can’t see him now, you know?”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Well, for starters I’ll spend a few days with my favorite cousin.” I smile and he laughs.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“And then… I don’t know. I think I just have to get myself busy for a little while and get over him. It’s not like I have any chance with him anyway, so… Besides, as you said, I’m not into pining for unavailable.”

“You know what, Cassie? How about we get drunk tonight? Get your mind off things and just hang out?” He offers and just like that I know coming to Gabe is the best decision I made in a long while.

 

Dean calls me on Sunday, but I’m so hungover from drinking with Gabe for the last two days that I have no intentions to deal with anything, much less listen to him gush about how great his date was. So I let it ring.

 

He calls me again on Monday, but by then I really am late with my papers, so I shut my phone off and get back to work. I’m lucky that being unhappy actually makes me very productive, so I harness all this stupid hurt and work on my papers like there’s no tomorrow.

 

I’m done with all my work by Tuesday afternoon. I’m also out of coffee by then, so I decide to go visit Gabe at the coffee shop he works at. Incidentally, Gabe has driven one of his colleagues up the wall with his never ending pranks, so I witness a shouting match of epic proportions and then the poor guy storms out swearing never to come back. So they’re hiring and I’m in dire need of distraction, not to mention money. I’m hired and start working within the next twenty minutes. Being busy doesn’t really help me stop missing Dean, but it does help me not to think about it all the time, so I count it as a win.

 

I find Dean waiting for me as I get out of the class on Wednesday. I’m not really surprised – we haven’t spoken since Friday and I’m pretty sure it’s the longest we’ve gone without speaking to each other since November. I make myself smile at him as I come closer.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas.” He smiles. “I was starting to think you were dead in a ditch somewhere. Where have you been?”

“Busy. I told you – I had couple of papers to finish up and some tests to prepare for. Finals are kicking me in the ass, even though they’re not even here yet.”

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it.” He nods. “I don’t think I have a class that I’m not behind in and the practice schedule is insane.”

“Sorry,” I tell him honestly.

“I’ll get by.” He grins. “Hey, how about I come over tonight to study? Roy’s an ass and I could use some time to actually work.”

“Um…” I mutter. I don’t want to tell him no, because he really needs to study, but at the same time I know being alone with him is just not an option. “I actually have plans with Gabe tonight, but if you need a place to study, why don’t you just go to my place? I can give you a key and you can come over.”

“Oh…” I want to think he sounds disappointed, but I know it’s wishful thinking at best. “I was hoping we could hang out. Um… So what are you doing with Gabe?”

“Nothing much. Just haven’t seen him in a while, so we decided to hang out. You know, family thing.”

“No, yeah, I get it.” He nods. “I take it you’re staying at his tonight?”

“That’s the plan.” I nod hoping against hope Gabe doesn’t have any other plans. 

“What about tomorrow? It’s been weeks since we went to that pie place,” he offers and suddenly I realize he misses his friend too. It’s not what I really want and damn it’s painful, but it’s still something.

“That’d be great, but I’m busy tomorrow.” I tell him. It sucks to turn him down, but I’m just not ready yet. And yet. And yet his face falls and I hear myself offering, “How about Saturday? I should be okay with my things by then, we could go get you that pie for lunch?”

I expected him to relax at the very least, but he tenses even more.

“Uh… I… I can’t Saturday.” He mumbles looking uncomfortable. “I’m taking Cassie out.”

Oh. Right. That’s why all of this hurts – he has a girl. I make myself grin despite it tearing me apart.

“Well, I’m glad that’s working out,” I tell him and I see he wants to say something else, but I really, really can’t stand here listening to him babble excitedly about his hot date. Not yet. So I trudge on. “And about us hanging out – I guess I’ll call you next week and we’ll figure something out.”

“Next week?” he asks quietly, and if I didn’t know any better I swear I’d think he’s sad. That’s ridiculous of course, I’m simply projecting. “Okay, next week.”

“Alright. And if you need a place to study – you know where the spare key is, just use it and get to my place tonight.”

“Thanks, Cas.” He nods. “I… Well, um, have a good one at Gabe’s.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you around?”

“Sure.” He nods, but as I walk past him he grabs my wrist suddenly. “Cas?”

I stare at our hands maybe a bit too long and then force myself to look him in the eye. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to go to the concert. I wish you could’ve seen it - you would’ve loved it. And I feel like a selfish dick for making you miss it.”

“Come on, Dean.” I pull my hand gently out of his grasp and make myself smile again. I don’t want him to feel bad after all. “You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted you to have fun and I take it you did. Seeing as she agreed to go out with you again.”

“Doesn’t make it fair anyway.”

“Fair is overrated. Look, you’re making it a bigger deal than it is. It was you who wanted to go to that concert. You took a girl you really like on a date you both seemingly enjoyed. You should really just thank Gabe for being able to get those tickets. And look, if this turns out to be an epic love story, he’ll have the bragging rights for getting you those tickets for the awesomest first date ever!”

“Cas…” He mutters, but I’m quite literally at the end of my capacity to act here, so I brush past him. “I have to go Dean, I’m already late to my next class. I’ll call you.”

With that I rush forward and force myself not to look back. I’ll just have to try harder avoiding him. I can’t let this happen again or I might actually crack. And the last thing I want is to lose his friendship over my stupid broken heart.

 

I spend Thursday and Friday nights at Gabe’s as well. It works out pretty well for us – we go to work, then to a bar next door and then to his apartment together. It would be pretty perfect if Gabriel wasn’t actually Gabriel, because by Friday night he most likely grows tired of my company or even better, thinks I had enough time to mope around and resumes his usual pranks. 

I go home early on Saturday, ready to spend all day wallowing in my ‘stupid manpain’ – Gabe’s words, not mine - but then I’m offered a shift at the café which I gladly accept. And it is a perfect distraction with Saturday’s crowd being much more demanding than what I’m used to and my hands full the whole time. That’s apparently exactly what I need now, so I let myself forget for a little while. And it’s blissful. Absolutely blissful, until I greet my next customer with the usual ‘Hi, welcome, what can I get you?’ and look up to find Dean with what must be Cassie standing next to him and holding his hand. Blissful day, my ass.

“Cas?” Dean’s eyes are wide and there’s beginning of smile at the corners of his lips. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m making ridiculous coffee drinks and to a lesser extent I’m preparing god awful sandwiches which I’m pretty sure can only be appealing to someone who’d smoked pot in the last 45 minutes or so. You?”

He laughs at my explanation and then nods to his girl.

“I’m on a date. This is Cassie, I told you about her. Cassie, this is Cas – my friend and the best almost roommate I ever had, considering we’re not living together.”

“Nice to meet you, Cassie.” I smile at her. She seems nice though – good looking and has this humorous spark in her eye that makes her even more beautiful. They look really good together. It fucking hurts.

“You too. Dean’s told me much about you.”

“Well, to be honest, I wouldn’t go as far as believing him.” I smile again. “Okay, so what can I get you guys? You’re holding up my queue.”

They give me their coffee orders and of course Dean wants his pie which I promise to bring shortly. By the time their coffees are done, my hands are shaking considerably less, but I still don’t want to go to them. I mean seriously – isn’t it some sort of cruel karma is a bitch kind of joke to have to cater for the date of a guy you’re freakin’ gone on? I must’ve been a real jackass in my past life. I take a deep breath trying to get myself ready for this when Gabe comes out of the kitchen and sees me. I don’t really know what it is he sees on my face, but he’s at my side then next moment.

“What is it?” he asks, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Gabriel. I’m being overdramatic. I have to take these coffees over to Dean and his date…”

“What? He has a date here? What a fucking dick!” he hisses, but I shush him.

“I never told him I work here. It’s okay.”

“Like hell it’s okay. Go back to the kitchen and take a break. Fuck, go get a smoke or something. I’m taking over your tables.”

I stare at Gabriel for a long second and then I can’t help myself and hug him.

“I… Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you love me little bro. Go. Take a break.”

“You can’t say anything, Gabe. You promised.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I’ll just bring them their order,” he promises, and I have a moment where I think this is a terrible idea, but the next second I shrug it off – fuck it, I don’t want to be here for that. So I walk out. I go to the back alley and just as Gabe suggested, I get a smoke. I don’t smoke often, but frankly I think all this constitutes as a reason enough to smoke. I sit down by the wall and lean my head against it. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It was never real so why the hell does it hurt this much? Dean’s happy with his new girl – he looks at her with smiling eyes and he very rarely looks at anyone like that, Sam being an obvious exception. It’s only been a week, but they already look like a couple. They look happy. And the worst thing, the absolute worst thing ever is that there’s a big part of me that’s happy for him! I’d like to be mad and pissed at him for breaking my heart, but instead there’s this big part of me that’s happy to see him smile, even if it’s not at me anymore. Logically I know Dean was always going to choose a nice girl to be with in the end. It’s more than likely it’s not going to be Cassie – they’re both 21 for crying out loud, but it’s going to be some girl, because whether I like it or not, Dean prefers women. Maybe not sexually, but definitely mentally and that’s just as important. So of course he was going to end up with a woman. Which makes even less sense for me to be this hurt. What the hell was I thinking? I’m his friend – it’s all there is. And I do want his friendship – I genuinely like Dean. I just need to focus on getting over him and finally getting our friendship back.

 

We call each other a couple of times in the following weeks, but between my work, his practices and our approaching exams, there never seems to be enough time to meet. Not to mention that I do whatever I can to actually avoid it.

I keep myself so busy that it’s with a jolt of surprise I realize I haven’t seen him in three weeks. It shouldn’t come as a surprise with me avoiding him and him having better things to do, but from the very first day that we met we have always been seeing each other every few days. I miss him. I miss his jokes and his smirks. I miss him slumping on my couch or resting his head on my shoulder. I miss his hands touching me, but even more I miss his smiles. It’s sickly sentimental and I’m pissed at myself for that, but still, I miss him. I wonder sometimes if he misses me. I think he might, but he has Cassie now and I know how exciting the beginnings of relationships are so realistically – I don’t think he’d thought much about me at all. Which is why I’m surprised to find him on the other side of my door as I open it up at a loud knocking.

“Hey, you’re alive!” He laughs. “I was beginning to think those goddamn books of yours have actually swallowed you up!”

“Dean. What are you doing here?” I ask, and he waves a six pack in my face.

“Break time, buddy,” he says. “We haven’t hung out in ages and I know you’re busy, I know you have papers, exams, work, what-the-fuck-ever, but it’s time to relax.”

“You should’ve called,” I tell him, furiously trying to come up with an excuse this time.

“Yeah? So you can tell me you’re busy?” He glares. “I fucking know. You’re always busy. But I haven’t seen you in forever and if I know you at all, you’ve been buried under your books for way too long. So. Can I come in?”

“Well… I suppose I could take a break,” I tell him finally stepping aside to let him in. Maybe I can handle it. It’s just beers with a friend. I should be fine.

“Great!” He laughs and plants his ass on my couch. “So – Playstation or Star Wars?”

We work through his six pack playing games and laughing and it feels good. Fuck, it feels amazing. I knew I missed him, but I was starting to forget how much fun we had together before I screwed things up with my stupid feelings. He’s my best friend and I honestly missed just hanging out with him. Maybe I can finally do it, maybe we can just be friends again.

“Hey, you want to order a pizza?” I ask him some time later and he nods enthusiastically.

“Sure, pepperoni!”

“I know, Dean.” I roll my eyes and he laughs. Once I order it and sit back down on the couch, he turns to me.

“So, you’ve been cooped up with your books all this time?” he asks.

“I have a job,” I tell him. “I think I might’ve misjudged the timing to get a job though. I don’t think finals is the best time to start working…”

“Yeah, no kidding. I kinda forgot what you look like for a little while there.”

“It hasn’t been that long, Dean. Besides, it’s not like you’re not busy.”

“I know, I know.” He nods. “So, I’ve been to your work a couple of times. When the hell do you work – I haven’t caught you since that time on Saturday.”

I know this, of course. Gabriel told me he’d seen Dean coming in a couple of times, but the only time I was there when he came, I shamefully hid in the kitchen. I don’t say any of this though.

“My hours are hectic – they try to match it to my schedule, so I work at random times.”

“Must be tough.”

“Not more than juggling school and your practices.”

“Yeah, but you’re not failing in nearly all of your classes.”

I want to tell him I’m not dating either, but that’s something I’m not touching with a ten foot pole.

“I’m sure you’re not failing either,” is what I say.

“Feels like it. Anyway, you know there’s a party at Ash’s this weekend? You wanna come?”

“I don’t know. I might have to work.”

“Come on, man! You need to get out more. Cassie doesn’t really want to go, but I figured maybe we could meet up there and hang out. What do you say?”

Ah, here it is, this tightening in my chest.

“I’ll think about it.” I tell him, but I think we both know there’s no way I’m going. He looks at me for a while longer then sighs.

“Hey, so, you know we haven’t hung out in a while” he says slowly and I roll my eyes again.

“I know, Dean, we covered that already.”

“So. Um… Do you…” His hand wraps around my wrist and drags slowly up my arm and all the while he’s staring at me.  _ Oh God, no!  _ “You wanna…”

“No.” I flinch back and he pulls his hands away from me at once looking at me as if I’d slapped him.

“Cas?”

I stand up to put some distance between us. Fuck, I really don’t want to do this now, but I suppose it had to happen sometime.

“Look, Dean, you have a girlfriend.”

“What?” He blinks at me, seemingly confused.

“Girlfriend, remember?”

“What does that… Oh, fuck! Jesus, Cas, I’m not cheating on her! Who the hell do you think I am? We’re not exclusive.”

“Well, good for you.” I snap but then try to pull myself together. “I’m not, however, used to sleeping with people who are steadily dating someone. So no, Dean, I don’t want to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve been dating other people the entire time.”

Ouch. Now, that’s just pathetic of me. How could I have ever thought he felt something for me is beyond me now. I take a deep breath and try to relax.

“Be as it may, I don’t want to sleep with someone who has a girlfriend. We said no strings attached, Dean, this is strings to me.”

“So what – it’s either I’m sleeping with you, or I’m seeing Cassie? How’s that ‘no strings attached’?”

“No, there’s no either/or. You’re seeing Cassie, it’s all there is.”

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you don’t want to sleep with me anymore?” He asks and I swear I see something painful flash in his eyes. Great, so now I’m back to projecting.

“I’m not avoiding you, Dean,” I lie. “That’s what happens when people have classes, work, practices and girlfriends – there’s just no time.”

“It’s a load of crap, Cas. You could’ve just fucking told me you don’t want to sleep with me. We agreed to tell each other if our arrangement stopped working, but instead you just stopped seeing me!”

I sigh again and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Alright, Dean. The arrangement stopped working. Can we go back to being friends now?”

He stares at me for a long moment and then I see his shoulders slump.

“When did it stop working? Was it before Cassie?”

“Yes, it was before Cassie,” I tell him honestly, because frankly I just don’t have it in me to lie anymore. If he leaves… Well, how likely was it I’d manage to keep his friendship anyway? Turns out I’m not a very good friend.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Is it something I did?”

“No, Jesus, Dean. No, it’s nothing you did.” Of course he blames himself – this guy’s guilt complex is something remarkable.

“Then why?”

“Because I didn’t know it stopped working, okay? Look can we just put it behind us and just try being friends again?”

“Dude, you avoided me for a month – I think I should know what the fuck I did to get that.”

“You didn’t do anything, Dean. It was my fault and my fucked up reasons, okay? Please.”

“No, you know what – fuck you! I thought we were okay, Cas! It was fucking great for me and now it turns out it sucked for you! What the hell?”

“It didn’t suck. Jesus, can’t you just let it go?”

“No, I can’t! What the hell happened? Did you meet someone or something?”

I can’t help but laugh bitterly at that.

“No, I didn’t meet anyone. It’s just… Fuck, okay, you want to know the truth? Alright. I realized this arrangement is not working for me, okay? It’s not working because even though I thought I don’t want a relationship, it turns out I fucking do. So there. It’s not working, because I want the real thing.”

“But… But… I don’t get it. So what’s stopping you? I mean, I get this part – you want a relationship, fine. But you don’t have one now, do you? So I get it if you find someone and we stop screwing around, but why would you want to stop now? Jesus, go on dates, find someone – it’s not like I’m stopping you!”

I stare at him for a little while longer marveling at my own stupidity. Seriously, how could I have ever thought he might have any sort of feelings for me? 

“I think you should go, Dean,” I tell him at last. I’m on the verge of saying things I’ll definitely regret later.

“What? What the hell, Cas? Why are you acting like I fucking did something to you?”

“You didn’t do anything,” I snap at him again. Fuck it, just fuck it – he wants to know, well I’ll tell him then. “Look, Dean, I know you couldn’t care less about me dating and trying to find someone. I get it – this is what we agreed on after all. But it turns out I’m an idiot who can’t keep two separate things apart. So you want to know why this isn’t working anymore? You want to know why I don’t want to sleep with you or frankly even see you? Fine. I don’t want to see you because I’m in-fucking-love with you, Dean. There. Happy? I’m fucking head over heels for you and God but does that suck!”

“You what? What…” He goldfishes and I laugh bitterly.

“You wanted to know, my friend. So there you have it! Go on! Tell me you told me so. Tell me I’m an idiot! Trust me, there’s nothing you can say that’s even close to what I’ve been telling myself.”

“But… Cas…” He stammers staring at me wide eyed, clearly pretty much shocked.

I laugh again – it’s an ugly sound even to me.

“Don’t worry, Dean, it’s not contagious.” I shake my head to clear it. “Listen, how about you go now?”

“Jesus, Cas!” Dean visibly pulls himself out of his stupor. “You can’t just tell me you’re in love with me and then throw me out.”

“Well, what else is there to say?” I ask, genuinely surprised. I would’ve thought he’d be out the door by now. “Look, I’m not delusional and I know where we stand with each other. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you anything in the first place.”

“So you figured you’d just stop seeing me and I’d never notice something’s off?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d be busy enough not to notice we’re not really hanging out anymore.” I shrug.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re my best friend!”

“Well, it’s not like I planned to never see you again. Seriously, Dean, I just need some time. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal? You tell me you’re in love with me and it’s not a big deal?” 

“It’s not. I’ll get over it. You’re my friend, Dean, and I really, really don’t want this friendship to be over, but for that to work I need to stay away from you for a little while. It’s not like our paths cross all that much – you do your things, I’ll do mine. The semester is nearly over and then it’s summer. By the time we get back to school in September, I’ll be long over you and we can see if we can be friends again.”

“Wait, wait! You’re telling me to get out of your way until September? Seriously?” He growls suddenly.

“Dean, you have your finals, practices, new girlfriend, and family to go to for summer – it’s not like there’s a place for me in your life anyway.”

“Right, so you have it all figured out, right? You know what I want and you know what fits in my life and what doesn’t. Fuck you, Cas!”

I take a deep breath. It’s not fair, that’s what this is. It’s not fair that I feel his anger at me like physical blows and it’s not fair that apparently anger is all that’s left of our friendship. But I can’t pretend anymore and it’s not like I can take my own words back.

“Go, Dean.” Is what I say and turn away from him.

“I don’t want to go!” he yells, “I want things to go back to what they were!”

“What do you want me to say?” I sigh. “I can’t go back to what we were right now. Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you, Dean! And it sucks! And it hurts! And I can’t turn it off like a fucking switch!”

“Listen, Cas, maybe the whole thing is just a stupid misunderstanding?” He asks hopefully. “I mean it’s me we’re talking about! You can’t be in love with me. Maybe you just got messed up or something?”

I look at him for a long while and then I shake my head.

“I will never understand how you can’t see yourself clearly, Dean. You’re… everything. So please don’t stand here saying I don’t know what I’m feeling – I know, alright? I realize this is not what you want, but it doesn’t make it any less true. I know what I feel and that’s that.”

“But you can’t. You can’t!” He growls. “You promised this wouldn’t happen! You said there’s no way!”

“It turns out I’m an idiot!” I yell back. “It’s not like I planned on it. It just happened, okay?”

“No, it’s not okay! I don’t want your love!”

“Don’t I know it, my friend.” I flinch despite myself. I honestly think it’s a new low for me, having someone throw my love at me with such contempt. And that’s something coming from a guy who spent nearly a year pining after his deeply closeted classmate. Still, Dean is my friend and I have to try. “Look, I’ll get over it. All I ask of you is some space. It’s all I want.”

“So what? Am I to pretend I don’t know you? If we bump into each other, should I just walk away?”

“We won’t. And even if we will – it’s not like I’d be struck by lightning or jump your bones. Jesus, you’re blowing it way out of proportion, Dean. And I really don’t get it – all I ask for is a little space. Is it really too much to ask?”

He stares at me silently for a little while and then visibly deflates.

“I suppose not…” 

“It’s not a big deal,” I repeat, but clearly it’s the wrong thing to say, because he glares at me.

“Fine!” He snaps. “Fine! Not a big deal, sure! I’ll just get the hell out of your way. Have a great summer, Cas!”

With that he jumps off the couch and before I have a chance to say anything else, he’s out the door. I stare after him long after the echo of his footsteps fades, and even though I’m sure I didn’t have any hope anyway, it still hurts. He’s what I want and it has never been clearer than in the minutes after he slammed the door shut that I’m definitely not what he wants. And it still hurts.

 

I’m pleasantly buzzed and I think I made the best fucking decision in a long while to come out to Meg’s party. After all, Meg’s always been excellent at getting me out of my own messed up head and I really do need help now. We’ve been steadily drinking for a while now and I love how numbing it is. Meg has her head in my lap and I’m threading my fingers through her hair. She’s warm and beautiful, and soft, and familiar. She’s exactly what I need right now. 

“Stupid as it is, I missed you, Clarence.” She purrs and I smile at her.

“I haven’t been the best of friends to you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not only a friend part that I missed. So what have you been up to?”

“Stupid things, really. I got myself into trouble for a little while. Nothing big, just really stupid.”

“You look it, you know?” She asks. “You look like you’re in trouble.”

“Not anymore. Well, not entirely, anyway. I’ll get over it,” I tell her.

“You also look like your heart’s been broken.”

“Well, that’s because I never knew how to use the damn thing right. I’ve been an idiot and I think I still am.”

“Aren’t we all, sometimes?” she asks with a smile and then sits up to kiss me. “I can help you, Clarence.”

“I was hoping you could,” I agree and kiss her back. We make out for a little while and I let myself get lost in her warmth and easy affection. It was never easy with Dean – it’s a constant battle against all the judgment he’s internalized. We fought it together and it made it worth everything. Now though… Dean’s with someone who makes it easy for him and I just have to do the same.

“I’m glad I came here,” I tell her and she laughs.

“So am I, Clarence.” She looks somewhere behind me for a moment. “Looks like your jock’s here.”

I frown and then turn to see what she’s talking about. I’m met with angry green eyes and despite having told myself I’d be okay if I ever saw him, I’m lost for a moment.

“I thought they were going to Ash’s party.” I mumble.

“Mine is obviously better.” Meg smirks. “Is that his new girlfriend? Let me guess – cheerleader?”

“Yes and yes.” I nod and focus on Meg. I don’t want to look at them after all. “She’s nice though. Haven’t seen much of her, but from what I’ve heard – she’s a nice girl. Dean’s lucky.”

“Hmm, well, good for them, then.” Meg kisses me again. “You wanna dance?”

“When do I ever?” I roll my eyes. “I’m going to get something to drink. You want something?”

“No, I’m good,” she says and I walk away. I try not to think about Dean and Cassie, but frankly – why? Why do they have to be here of all places? And what the hell have I done in my past life to deserve this shitty karma?

“So, Meg, huh?” I hear Dean ask as I’m pouring myself a drink.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” I tell him instead.

“Can’t say I expected to see you. So, Meg?” He repeats with an odd look on his face.

“What about her?”

“Are you two back together?

“We were never together in the first place.”

“No? So what, you just fuck all of your friends?” He sneers and I know I should be pissed at him, but honestly I’m more surprised than anything. He’s not usually an asshole and I really have no idea what brought this on.

“What is this?” I ask him.

“Or are you in love with her too?” He continues in a mocking, condescending tone and I swear for a moment there I feel like I can’t breathe. I space out entirely, because there’s this big part of me that can’t believe my friend is cruel enough not only to throw my stupid love right back at my face, but also mock me for it. Who is he and why have I never seen it before? I understand him not loving me, that much I definitely get, but this… This is low and cruel and I don’t think I ever did something to him to deserve it. So I simply turn and walk away. If this is how he chooses to end our friendship, well. I just expected more of him. 

I quickly say goodbye to Meg, but I think I’m shaken enough not to hide it properly, because she watches me curiously.

“Call me, when you need to talk,” she says slowly. “Or not talk. Doesn’t matter, Clarence. Call me.”

“I will,” I promise and I do think I will. Just not now. I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now and most of all I don’t want to be anywhere near Dean and his perfect and easy life. Life that I have no place in, apparently.

Once I’m back home, I decide not to get drunk for a change, so instead I get on my writing. It helps, definitely, because for a long while I’m so immersed in words that float through my head and down to my fingertips that I don’t notice or think of anything else. So I’m really surprised when I hear a quiet knock on my door. I glance at my watch and I’m even more surprised, because it’s nearly four in the morning. I open the door anyway. 

“Dean? What are you doing here?”

“I… Can I come in?” he asks slowly, and I’m surprised, because he’s not drunk. I’d have thought the only way he’d come to see me was if he was blindingly drunk and in a mood to mock me again.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I tell him slowly.

“Cassie broke up with me.” He sighs and I curse inwardly. 

“Jesus, Dean… I’m sorry, I know you liked her… Fine, come in. Do you need something?” There’s no way I’d turn him down now – after all he was my friend and… Well, it’s hard to even see him like this – silent, dejected. Of course, I’ll do what I can to help.

He walks silently in and settles down on the couch. “I didn’t wake you?”

“No, I was just writing, it’s okay. Dean… Do you want to talk about it? What happened? You two seemed okay…”

He closes his eyes for a moment. “I told her I was bi.”

Fuck… He came out to her and she… As if he wasn’t screwed up enough about these things – it must be devastating to him. I mean I didn’t know they were so serious he’d come out to her, but I can’t even imagine coming out to someone you really care about and being turned away.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. Really… I don’t understand why she’d ever… Listen, I know it sucks and it’s horrible really, but you can’t think everyone would react this way. This shouldn’t matter, Dean, and I know not everyone would care about it. Honestly, I don’t get it! Why would Cassie care? I mean you’re with her, what does it matter you’re bi? She’s what you want, why would she break up with you just because you’re attracted to men too?”

“Um…” He sighs and looks up at me. “I also told her I’m in love with my best friend.”

“You what? Wait, what?!” 

“Cassie didn’t have a problem with me being bi, but she did have a problem with me being in love with someone else.”

“But… But…” I stammer, and even to myself I sound like a goddamn idiot. But seriously – what?! Then suddenly I think I get it – he must be talking about someone else. Fuck, of course he’s talking about someone else, of course he’s not talking about me! He was very clear about how he feels about me, so what the hell is my problem? Am I really that desperate I try to see hope everywhere?

“I didn’t know… I mean, I thought I… Jesus, it’s ridiculous.” I groan. I’ve no idea why, but it hurts me even more that he managed to get a new best friend so soon. I guess I’m just that replaceable in every aspect of his life. “Who is she?”

“Who’s who?” He asks me confusedly.

“Your best friend, the girl you’re in love with,” I clarify, but his eyes widen even further and I realize something. “Or is it a he?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s okay.” I sigh tiredly and make myself continue. Apparently now I’m expected to pep talk him into going after someone else. “Look, Dean, whoever they are – I’m sure you have a decent shot with them. Just tell them.”

“Wait… Wait, you think I… You fucking moron!” He jabs his finger at my chest and then grabs the back of my neck and pulls me so close our noses are almost touching. “You, you goddamn fool! You! I’m in love with you!”

I blank out for a second and then shake my head and pull away from him. I’ve been down this road – not again.

“No,” I tell him simply.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no, you’re not in love with me. I don’t know what this is, Dean, but you’ve been very clear with me. You don’t want my love and you’re very much not in love with me.”

“How about you let me decide what I’m feeling, huh?” He frowns.

“Dean, you told me you don’t want me.”

“Yeah, and you’ve told me you won’t fall in love with me. Things change.” He sighs. “Listen, Cas, I know I’ve been a dick to you. I know I screwed up and I’m really, really sorry for many things, but none of this makes me falling for you any less true. I’m an asshole and I screwed up, but I’m head over heels for you, buddy.”

“A few hours ago you had a girlfriend – I think it’s pretty clear where we stand with each other.”

“I also broke it off with her, because it’s pretty clear to me where I stand with you.”

I turn away from him with my head buzzing. I don’t want to hope again, but… He’s right here and he sounds so sure that I can’t just close my eyes against it. He wraps his hand around my wrist.

“Cas, please look at me,” he asks and helplessly I turn to him. “I’m an idiot, Cas. This… This thing I feel, it’s not even new, you know? I freaked out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At the cemetery, remember? You told me you were happy I was part of your life and… Fuck, it made me feel so goddamn happy! And it wasn’t supposed to. I wasn’t supposed to feel things. We agreed to have fun – easy, no strings attached, best friends fooling around. That’s what it was supposed to be. But somewhere, somehow it stopped being just that. I couldn’t even remember the last time I went out with anyone, or even wanted to. And I realized at that moment that it was nothing but strings. I’ve never felt like that before and I realized that if I didn’t get out then, I never would. And I… freaked out. That’s why I asked Cassie out – to prove myself nothing has changed and I could do whatever I wanted to.”

“Yes, well, you did what you had to do. I would have probably freaked out too, if I realized I was getting attached to someone I don’t want.” I pull away again. “Look, I’m sorry and you are right – this was not supposed to happen. And you did the right thing – you got out. When I realized I was gone on you, I decided to just let it be. It was stupid and irresponsible and I should’ve stopped it then, but I was happy for once and it was easy to convince myself you might have wanted it too. Or that at least it wasn’t doing you any harm and that I could walk away as soon as this changed. Then you met Cassie and that was that – I backed away.”

“I don’t want you to back away. Fuck, I just want you.”

“No, what you want is things to go back the way they were and I’m really sorry Dean, but I can’t do that.”

“Why? You said you loved me.”

“And that’s precisely why. Look, it was easy to be together, no strings attached. It made sense then that it was private and just for us. But I can’t go back to that, because that’s not how I feel anymore. There are strings. I’m in love with you and I don’t want to be a dirty secret for someone I love.”

“Who said anything about being a dirty secret?” He frowns and I sigh.

“You said very clearly you didn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend, much less have one. That leaves very little choice.”

“Yeah, and you said we’d be fuck buddies. Look, Cas, don’t you get it? Things changed.”

“Have they really?”

“Yes, they have. I just came out to Cassie and I’m not here to ask you to be my fuck buddy. I’m here to ask you to be my boyfriend, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Are you seriously telling me you’d be willing to come out? To be with me?”

“Listen, there are very few people I care about. Their opinions actually matter to me. Other than those few - I don’t care what anyone thinks. I’m in love with you and I’m not going to hide it.”

I gape at him for a few seconds.

“You’re serious?”

“There’s just one person I don’t want to tell and I’m pretty sure you can guess who.”

“Your father?”

“Yeah, my dad. Other than him, I’m okay to tell everyone. Fuck, I actually called Sammy already. I kinda needed help to get my shit together.”

“You told Sam?” I ask and frankly I think that’s the most surprising of everything that happened tonight. Not that him confessing his love for me isn’t surprising, but still. “And?”

“And he said to get my head out of my ass and go do something about it. He likes you and he said it was obvious we had something going on between us and I’d be an idiot to screw it up. So when I told him I kinda already have, he said to stop being a dick, apologize and grovel until you take me back. So. I’m groveling.”

“And you’re okay with this? Really okay with telling people?” I ask, because I need to know.

“I’m bi, Cas. With you or without you. So, I’d probably have to do it anyway some time. But I’d rather be with you.”

I look at him for a bit longer and then I very literally jump his bones. 


	2. Engaged

##  ENGAGED

 

###  August 2010

 

I haven’t done much reflecting lately, but today maybe is a good time to do so. The last nine years have been… Well, happy, all things considered. There have been struggles, of course there have. And there’ve been days I wanted to shout and scream and sometimes did just that. But when I look back at my life I can honestly say I’ve been happy. Dean, of course, was a big part of that, but it wasn’t just Dean. I’m a published writer now. I have four published books under my belt and one more on the way. I have a contract for three more to come and there are talks, whispers really, mainly by my editor, that one of them will make it to the big screen. Success is not something I even hoped for and yet I find myself being successful. And there’s Dean.

We’ve been together for over nine years now and yes, we still talk too little sometimes and still fight too much, but I’ve been so happy with him that I can barely breathe. Dean’s an engineer at a robotics company. He’s good. Scratch that – he’s amazing at what he does. He’s respected and successful and the only downside for all this is the fact that he has to wear a suit to corporate parties now. He grumbles and moans about it, but honestly – he looks so good in a suit that I don’t find it in me to agree. Besides, he’s usually distracted by the way I look in a suit when I accompany him to those damn parties to complain too much. 

We don’t hide. It had been difficult for both of us in the beginning. Our friends were mostly supportive and the ones that weren’t are no longer in our lives anyway. Sam was thrilled to find out we solved our differences and was the most supportive of all. I know it helped Dean a lot in the first months of our relationship – knowing that his brother was fully on board with us being together was really important to him. We’re not really into PDA, but from the very beginning, when we decided to be together, we never really hid ourselves. Yes, he shies away from me in public and I guess nobody could actually suspect we’re together just from seeing us go out and about our business in public, but we don’t hide what we are from people that matter in our lives. Except from Dean’s father.

We’d been together for over two years and lived together for a year and a half before Dean was ready to tell him. We’ve been out of college by then and it happened just before Christmas. Dean said he didn’t want to spend another holiday apart and that it was time to tell John. I offered to come with him, but Dean had said it was something he needed to do alone. I wonder if he was just trying to spare my feelings. I let him do it his way anyway, so he went home with Sam and told John. Dean never really told me what happened, but Sam mentioned some, and from what I came to know about John since, I can imagine. John’s a mean drunk, but it’s not only that. I don’t know what happened in his life and frankly I don’t want to know, but in all fairness not only is he not a decent human being, he’s also a horrible father. Dean’s told me some of the things he had to go through growing up and frankly I’m amazed he grew up to be such a wonderful person. I think having to take care of Sam has shaped him into a person who’s fiercely loyal and devoted to his family. I can’t even imagine what it must feel like for a person like that to bear the weight of his father’s constant disappointment in him. Be it his choice of sports, career or life choices – John’s always disappointed and it’s been crushing Dean all his life. 

I think distancing himself from John has helped Dean a little, especially now, when both he and Sam have graduated and have the lives of their own. Anyway, I’m not completely sure what happened when Dean told John about us, but what I do know is that Dean came back with a busted lip and a hollow look in his eyes that took me months to free him of. He’d said John reacted the way he expected him to, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt Dean all the same. Both Sam and I did our best to show him that John was wrong in the months to come and I think he got over it to an extent. We’ve spent all our holidays together ever since – my family, Sam and his girlfriend Jess, their uncle Bobby, his wife Ellen and her daughter Jo. I know Dean invites John from time to time, but he’s refused to come every single time. 

I’ve met John, of course. First time I ever saw him was at Bobby and Ellen’s wedding. Dean and I went together, and since John is Bobby’s best friend he was there as well. I think both Bobby and Ellen had warned John to leave us be, because he certainly stayed away. That is until he got drunk. 

It wasn’t pretty. He cursed and shouted – slurs and how disappointed he was that his boy turned out to be a fairy. Dean stood beside me shaking minutely, his jaw tense. I couldn’t take it anymore though. It’s one thing to hear strangers shout slurs at us when we’re on a date, but a different thing altogether to see the man I love being abused by someone who’s supposed to love him. So I decked him. John’s an ex marine, but I’ve been training one way or another all my life. Besides, he was drunk and clearly not expecting a fucking fairy to hit him. Which I did. I think I also asked him what it felt like to be decked by a fag, because the next moment John was literally growling at me and rearing to go. If not for Sam and Bobby it would’ve become really ugly really fast. Instead they dragged him off, and Bobby and Ellen kicked him out. I remember Dean looking at me with a shocked expression and I was sure he was pissed at me for hitting his father, but instead he started laughing, really laughing so hard I was actually worried. When he finally calmed down, he said that was the best thing he’s ever seen in his life and that he had no idea I could be this badass. Also, sex later that night was incredible.

It wasn’t the only time I’ve seen John, of course. We still meet at Dean’s family events where both John and we are invited. Sometimes he ignores us, sometimes he starts saying something, but usually someone else interrupts and John’s always dragged out after. It never resulted in fighting again, though. Not until tonight.

It’s been nine years since Dean and I got together and in that time there’d been ups and downs. I remember the time when anything we did in the bedroom was difficult for him. Not anymore. Dean was never shy, especially with giving me what I want, but he was hesitant to show me just how much he enjoyed the things we did together. He’s not hesitant anymore. If anything, being together in a committed relationship has helped us both to free ourselves. I could’ve never imagined the kinky stuff we get into sometimes. We talk about what we want and how we want it and I think it helped us to become more relaxed and enjoy one another more. Of course, not all of our ideas pan out. Sometimes we talk about something and dismiss it altogether – if one of us is not into it, then it’s a no go. I still remember the time I asked Dean if he wanted to invite someone else into our bed. He looked at me with something painful flashing in his eyes and asked me if I wanted someone else. I didn’t. But at that time I thought that maybe Dean had missed being with a woman and no matter how much it might’ve hurt me, I’d give that to him. As soon as I explained this, he looked at me relieved and happy again. He’d called me an idiot for even thinking he’d be willing to share me with someone else. I remember being stupidly happy about it. 

Some things we do try out. Some of them we like, some not that much. We’re really not into role play. Tried once and very soon decided it wasn’t for us. For one, we couldn’t stop laughing. It had definitely been fun, but also decidedly not sexy in any way. There were things that stuck. Dean told me once about his girlfriend who’d talked him into wearing her panties and of course I insisted I wanted to see it. One thing led to another, but by now Dean has quite a collection and honestly – he’s ridiculously hot in them. Dean prefers his red satiny panties, but for me there’s nothing better than seeing him in a white lace pair. There’s just something about the way his freckled skin looks under them that makes me go weak in the knees. Plus, I’ll never forget the time I fucked him while he was wearing those panties – I don’t think I ever came harder than then. It’s still a special occasion kind of thing for us, but sometimes he wears a pair when we go out. I must say it’s surprising we haven’t been banned from some of the town’s finer establishments.

There are serious things, of course. We agree on so many things, but on some – not that much. Dean tends to put himself down and I honestly hate it. I know it’s John’s fault, mainly, but it’s still hard to listen to him talk badly about himself. So I fight him and he fights me back. I think some of the nastiest fights we ever had started because of that. Like the time he didn’t want to accept a job offer because he thought he’d fail at it, that he wasn’t smart enough. That fight took five days to resolve, three of which he’d spent on Sam’s couch. When he finally came back, he’d told me he took the job and that he was sorry, but it definitely put a strain on us for a while.

Another one of the nastier fights we got into around four years into our relationship. I asked Dean if he wanted to make our relationship official. I knew it was somewhat redundant when we were already living together and gay marriage was not even a thing that was legally accepted in the US at the time, but there was a part of me that wanted at least that civil partnership. Dean looked at me as if I was insane and said he’d never want to do that. When I asked him why, he said he didn’t see the point – it’s not like we’d be a real family anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever been hurt that much. So I nodded at him and walked out of the door. We did that sometimes – we walked out on each other instead of solving our shit. It took Dean three days to come find me at Gabe’s. By that time I was sure we were over – what was the point anyway, if we weren’t a real family, but Dean did come around and he apologized for being an idiot. He said he knew we were a real family and he only meant that it wouldn’t be a real marriage, not with the State not recognizing it. I think Sam had kicked some sense into him, if I’m honest, but regardless, I came back home. Still, whenever he’d ask about a civil partnership later on, I said no. What’s the point, right?

And then marriage was suddenly legal in Massachusetts. We threw a party for our friends on that day. I mean none of us were really activists, but I did want to go to the rally for same sex marriage legalization and Dean went with me so it made sense to celebrate. Of course, John took the opportunity to piss on our parade – pun intended – and called Dean that same night. He had asked Dean if he’d now let me make an honest woman out of him and said he’d make a really pretty bride. Dean hung up on him and walked out. That was the last time either of us walked out, because when he got back four hours later, I was pissed as hell. We talked about it and I do get he was upset, but we agreed not to walk out like that anymore. We agreed to at least tell each other where we were going and when we’d come back. We still need to clear out and vent from time to time, but we always tell each other. Or told each other. Until tonight.

Anyway, Dean came back and two months later he proposed. He said he wanted to be with me always and that now he’d be able to call me his husband and he wanted that. I said yes, of course, but part of me always wondered if he didn’t do it to spite his father to some extent. I know Dean loves me, I do, but he still struggles sometimes and John always brings the worst out of him. And yet. And yet I love him more than I ever loved anyone and there was no way, no way in hell I’d say no. We’re engaged and we’re about to get married in just over a week. I have honestly never been happier and despite his hang-ups I know Dean is happy with me too. I might not be what he pictured in his future before, but he loves me and I love him and we’ll make it work. Right?

Dean invited John to our wedding. I didn’t want to, but I get it. He’s his father after all and even though neither of us thought he’d attend, Dean had to ask, that’s just who Dean is. John didn’t reply to our invitation, not until tonight. He came over tonight to throw our invitation at our faces. It got ugly, really ugly. He yelled and cursed, but it was nothing we haven’t seen yet. What was worse, though, is that he knew exactly where to hit Dean where it hurts. 

“This?! You think this is what family is?” He’d yelled at Dean. “Shacking up with some fucking fag?! And now you’re marrying him?! I’m just glad your mom never lived to see what’s become of her son. She’d be so fucking disappointed. She wanted a real family for you – a wife and a kid and you couldn’t get even this one thing right! You’re nothing but a disappointment, Dean, and I’m glad Mary didn’t have to live to see it! Fucking pansy!”

“Shut up! Shut up!” I shouted then. I know Dean loved his mom; he was just a little boy when she passed away and he’d always tell me how kind and sweet she was. It was a new low for John to say something like this to Dean and I couldn’t stand it. “How dare you come into our home and spew this bullshit to your own son?! How fucking dare you use his mom to validate your own bigoted and homophobic beliefs?!”

“I’m not talking to you, you fucking fairy!” He screamed. “It’s your fault! You made him this way! He was normal; he was a real man before he met you!”

“Jesus fucking Christ! Do you even hear yourself?! Dean’s not a real man? He’s more of a man you’ll ever be! You come here and curse and shout about your son loving me! What kind of a man are you? What kind of a father?! You tell Dean his mom would be disappointed in him when the only one Mary would ever be disappointed in is you! Are you the father Mary would’ve wanted for her boys? A real man?!”

So he hit me. I should’ve expected it of course, I should’ve, but I was beyond enraged by then and so I honestly didn’t see it coming. He has a mean right hook; my jaw can definitely vouch for that. Anyway, by the time I was back on my feet, Dean was already dragging John off me. John was pretty much feral – yelling and cursing and shoving Dean off, but between the two of us, we managed to get him out of our house. I did tell him he was no longer welcome in our home, but honestly, I don’t think he’d ever want to come back anyway. Once we were back inside, I blinked the blood out of my eye. John’d cut my eyebrow, and head wounds sure bleed like a bitch. Dean was standing in the middle of the hallway, his shoulders slumped and head down. I came over to hug him, but he flinched away from me. 

“Dean?” I asked, but Dean just shook his head stepping away from me. 

“Dean, you know he’s wrong, you know he’s being an asshole.” I tried, but again, he just shook his head and then without a word he walked out of our house.

I wonder if I should’ve gone after him, if I should’ve stopped him. Instead I decided to give him some space and time to process, so here I am sitting on a couch at four in the morning, waiting for my fiancé to come back home, and reflecting. I thought he’d go to Sam, but Sam said he hasn’t heard from him and Dean is of course not answering his phone, so I sit here, wait for him to come back, and hope he’s okay. I hope he doesn’t get into trouble and I hope against hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.

 

It’s nearly dawn when I hear the door open and then shut again. Dean comes into the living room a minute later and I look at him, feeling the first tendrils of dread creep up my spine. His eyes are red and he’s a little unsteady, but… But he’s freshly showered and he’s not meeting my eyes. And just like that I know.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” I mutter. “I’m such an idiot… I sit here at ass o’clock in the morning waiting for you to come back, worrying about you and hoping you’re not in trouble and you… You…”

“Cas…” He whispers still not meeting my eyes.

“Was she good? Are you happy now?” I force through my gritted teeth. There’s a part of me, a really big one that just can’t believe this is happening. It can’t believe it’s not a horrible nightmare. The rest… The rest hurts so much that I grasp at anger the best I can. 

“Cas, I’m so sorr…” Dean slumps in on himself even more.

“No,” I cut him off angrily. “So tell me. Was she all you ever wanted? Did she make you feel like a real man?”

“I got drunk, Cas, and…Fuck, I’m so sorry…”

“Why?” I scoff, fighting the tears back. “You got what you wanted. Just think about how proud your dad’s going to be! His boy’s a real man now.”

“Please, don’t…”

“No, but just think about it! He’s going to be so proud of you – you finally ditched the fucking fag and fucked a woman like a real man! You must be so happy now…” I can’t hold back a sob and I realize I’m shaking all over. Jesus, why does it hurt this much? “Fuck…”

“Please, Cas, I screwed up, I’m so sorry…” He steps closer to me but I flinch away and take a moment to just breathe. It feels like there’s something crushing my chest and it’s physically difficult to breathe. I never knew one could actually feel emotional pain and heartache in their chest. My fingertips go numb and my head is swimming, so I make myself calm down a little and just breathe. I want to lash out, to scream and shout at him, to hurt him like he’s hurting me, but also… I just want to go away. He broke us already and whatever I say now, that’s not going to change.

“I hope she was worth it. I hope your dad’s approval was worth it. I hope you’re going to be happy, now that you’re a real man and have a chance at a real family. I know it’s hard to believe, but I fucking hope you’re going to be so very happy, because if not… If not you just broke my heart for nothing.”

I can feel tears dripping down my face, but I can’t fight them back anymore. It hurts so much I can barely breathe and there’s a big part of me that’s actually pissed at myself for hurting so much. I should’ve fucking known! I should’ve known I’d never be enough for Dean, I should’ve known!

“Don’t leave me.” He whispers brokenly.

“Leave you?” I sob. “I’m not leaving you, Dean, you left me already.”

“Please, Cas, I’ll do whatever it takes, I can fix this, please don’t leave me…” He’s crying now, reaching for me, but I just can’t so I step away again.

“You know, you were worth it for me. All the slurs and abuse, all the looks and whispers behind my back, all the disapproval. You were worth it for me and it hurts like hell that I wasn’t worth it for you.”

“Cas, no…”

“It’s going to be better for you now,” I continue wiping my face angrily. “You’ll move on and you’ll get a family you’ve always wanted. Or at the very least you’ll find someone worth fighting for.”

“You! I want you, Cas. Please. I made a mistake and I’m so fucking sorry! I’d take it back if I could and I can’t, I can’t. But I can fix this, Cas. Please don’t leave me…”

“And what happens the next time your father attacks us? What happens the next time he makes you feel less of a man? Do you think you’re the only one who’s been hurt today? Do you think I enjoy this man coming to our home and spewing slurs at us? Do you think I liked being decked in the face or seeing him abuse you like that? And yet I was not the one to go out and pick up the first willing woman to make me feel like a man. Instead I sat here like a goddamn idiot and waited for my fucking fiancé to come back so I can talk to him and kiss him and make him feel a little better. A fiancé who was fucking someone else instead!” I furiously rub at my eyes again to stop crying. Fuck, but does it hurt. “We’re done, Dean.”

“No, Cas, please! I fucked up and I’m sorry, so fucking sorry, but I can fix it. Please, tell me how to fix it! Please don’t do this…”

“You want to fix something? Cancel the goddamn wedding. I’ll call my family, the rest is on you – I’ll let you share the happy news.”

“Don’t…” he sobs shaking, but I can’t let myself care, not right now. 

“I’ll stay at Gabe’s for a little while. We can figure out what to do with the house and the rest later.”

“Don’t do this, Cas. I need you. Please. Stay…”

“No, Dean, you really don’t. I’ll call you when I can talk to you again. Cancel the wedding.” With that I turn and walk away, trying not to hear him cry.

 

###  September 2010

 

I called Sam on my way over to Gabe’s to ask him to go to Dean. I didn’t tell him what happened, couldn’t bring myself, but I didn’t want Dean to be alone. So I asked Sam to go over and if Dean wanted to tell him – he would. If not, he’d probably just kick Sam out and I’d have to apologize for dragging him into it. I still think Dean shouldn’t be alone, after all, everything else aside, his relationship ended as well.

Gabriel took me in. Of course he was surprised to see me barely after dawn, shaking on his doorstep, but he took me in. I told him what happened and asked to stay for a couple of nights, but he was having none of it and told me to stay as long as I needed. He was angry, I think angrier than I was, so I let him lash out and it was nearly therapeutical for me, since I couldn’t bring myself to say a word. I think I was still in denial at that point.

On the day of my supposed wedding I got so drunk I can barely remember anything. Gabe took me out to get my mind off it, so that I don’t spend the entire day moping and feeling sorry for myself, he’d said. We went to a bar and got really drunk. There was this girl - hot and sweet and smart and I thought about getting a motel room and forgetting for a little while. In the end I couldn’t do it. It felt like cheating and I couldn’t do it - how pathetic is that? Instead I said goodnight and went back to Gabe’s. I kind of hate myself for wondering whom Dean spent the night with.

He texts me, Dean. Random shit, like that he’d watered my cactus or that there’s a new episode of Doctor Sexy on. He always ends his texts with ‘I’m sorry, please come back’. I don’t reply and I don’t pick up the phone when he calls, but there’s just this part of me that waits for his texts or calls no matter what. And yes, I know it’s pathetic.

Sam came to see me once. I’m glad he did - after all Sam is my friend too. He’d said Dean canceled the wedding and that he refuses to see anyone. He also said that John called Sam when he found out about the wedding. I asked if he was pleased to know he got what he wanted, if he’s finally happy about Dean. Sam looked at me as if I was insane.

“Dean hasn’t spoken to Dad,” he said. “Dad found out from Bobby and Dean refuses to take his calls. So Dad called me and asked to come over for Sunday dinner with Jess and Dean, to be a real family again now that you’re not in the picture.”

“Makes sense,” I said. That’s exactly what I expected him to do.

“I told him to go fuck himself,” Sam growled.

I stared at Sam for a little while, stupidly surprised.

“You shouldn’t have,” I told him at last. “Dean loves his father and now when there’s nothing between them, I’m sure they can mend their relationship.”

“Are you out of your mind?” he asked. “Dean doesn’t want to even speak to Dad, much less see him. He’ll never forgive him for what he’d done to you guys.”

“John wasn’t the reason we broke up,” I told him. “It’s unfair to blame him.”

“I know and Dean knows it too. He doesn’t blame anyone but himself. But Dad put Dean through hell and he’ll never accept that he is who he is and Dean is not going to hide again. Plus he’s pissed Dad hit you and that he yelled all that vile shit at you.”

“His approval is important to Dean, he should just let it go and try speaking to John on his own terms.”

“Yeah, no, not gonna happen.” Sam frowned. “You don't get it, do you? He doesn’t want John’s approval at the cost of losing you. He just wants you.”

This is where I stopped him.

“Dean and I are over, Sam, and that’s that. He’d decided that being a ‘real man’ is more important than me, our relationship, or my stupid love. Whatever Dean wants it sure as hell is not me.”

“You should talk to him, Cas. I don’t want to get in the middle and trust me I’m angry as hell for what Dean did to you, but I do know my brother and I know he loves you more than anything. I’m sorry I’m bringing this up, but you guys have been together for years - you really should talk to each other. He fucked up, but does this really cancel out all that’s between you?”

“Sam, please…”

“Yes, I know and I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now. But, Cas, you’re my friend and if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m right here.”

“Thank you.” I nodded, glad that was over. It appears I can’t talk about Dean yet.

 

###  October 2010

 

In the end I know I can’t run away from my problems forever, so I call Dean and we agree to meet. I’d thought about asking him to meet me somewhere public, but even I had to admit things we needed to talk through weren’t meant for public so I promise to come over.

On the day of our meeting I’m a nervous wreck. I know I shouldn’t be – we’re over and that’s that, but I can’t seem to stop fidgeting and pacing nervously all day long. I try to write, but I’m honestly too anxious, so I know whatever I’ll write will be unusable anyway.

When I finally go to meet Dean, I pretty much have it all figured out. We’ll talk about what to do with the house and I’ll get the hell out of there. Easy. Right? Instead when he opens the door I’m pretty much speechless. 

He looks horrible. He’s still the handsomest guy I’ve ever seen in real life, but he’s very obviously tired and unhappy. It shouldn’t, I know it shouldn’t, but it makes me feel better anyway.

“Hello, Dean,” I say and his shoulders sag as he lets me in.

“Cas.” He mutters and we walk into the kitchen to talk. It’s always the kitchen for us – that’s where we usually talk when things are bad.

“So,” I say when we’re seated. I rehearsed the whole thing, but weirdly and infuriatingly enough, I don’t remember a thing. “We should probably talk.”

“Thank you,” he says. “For coming to talk to me.”

“Well.”

“I’m sorry, Cas,” he says quietly.

“I didn’t come to talk about that, Dean.”

“I know, but I have to say this,” he hurries along. “I know I have no right and you can just shut me up, but I need to tell you how sorry I am. Cas, I… Fuck, I’d do anything to take it back. Anything. I’m so sorry I did this to us. You’ve been so… And I just… Fuck, I’m just so fucking sorry, Cas!”

It hurts, of course it does. But it also hurts to see him like this.

“Dean, let’s not… I can’t forgive you, I just can’t. I want to and I think someday I will, but, fuck, you broke my heart…”

“I know, I know…” There’s anguish in his voice.

“For what it’s worth – I believe you’re sorry. I believe you didn’t do this to hurt me or out of some spite. And I believe you loved me.”

“I do! Fuck, Cas, so much… I miss you…”

“Don’t.” I stop him. “Don’t do this to me. We’re over, Dean. We need to accept this and move on.”

“I don’t want to move on! Cas, please! I fucked up, yes, horribly, stupidly. But I love you Cas, and you love me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. Please Cas, just think about this. We’ve been through so much together and I know what I did broke us, but we can still fix it. Let me fix it. Let me, please…”

And it’s horrible, truly horrible, that I still want that. That despite him fucking me over, I still want him and there’s still hope that we can somehow move past this. 

“I… I… Look, I just… fuck. I’ll never forget this,” I say, because it’s true, I won’t. “I can’t trust you anymore and I don’t want to live my life wondering if you don’t have someone on the side. I can’t spend my life obsessing over you fucking someone else every time you’re late from work. I don’t want that life.”

“I would never, ever do this again. Cas, I made a mistake. I got drunk, really drunk, and I couldn’t stop thinking there was something wrong with me for only wanting you in my life. That maybe my dad’s right and there’s something wrong with me for wanting you so much. That maybe I forgot what’s it like to be with someone else and I’m just kidding myself with thinking we’re going to be happy together. There’s this… It’s like there’s this other person inside me sometimes, especially when Dad’s around, that can’t help but believe all the shit he spews. I hate that person and I… I started therapy, Cas. I… I don’t want this to ever happen again and I won’t let it, but you have to give me a chance. I know I don’t deserve this, but you have to give me a chance, because otherwise I… I don’t know what to do without you and I just don’t… I don’t want to find out. Cas, I love you...”

“You’re in therapy?” I ask pretty much shocked. I’ve breached the subject of therapy exactly once, after one of the more vicious fights we had about Dean’s father and it didn’t go down well, to say the least. Dean was pissed as hell at me for even suggesting he might need some help with coming to terms with what we were to each other.

“Look, Cas, I promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to fix us. We can do couples therapy if you want, too, although I don’t think there’s a problem with us as much as it is with me. It’s still homophobia, even if it’s internalized.”

“That sounds like something a therapist would say.” I tell him with a twitch of a smile. I just can’t help it.

“Yes, well, Pamela is badass.” He smiles.

“That’s great, Dean, really. I’m glad you asked for help – everyone deserves to feel comfortable in their own skin. But…”

“No, wait!” Dean interrupts. “I know what you’re going to say, but please don’t. Just think about it, Cas, it’s all I ask. I can promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me again, so please just think about it. I really do love you.”

“Jesus, this was supposed to be about what we’ll do with the house…” I mutter.

“We can live in it. Or we can just postpone selling it. If you want, you can live here and I’ll move out. We can start dating again – like a fresh start or something. Just one more chance, Cas, it’s all I ask for.”

“I don’t know… Fuck, I just don’t know.”

“Cas…”

“No, you know what? I’m just so angry with you. It hurts, of course it does, but I’m just so pissed at you! We had a good thing, Dean. I was so happy and I thought that despite of everything you were too. And then you go and mindlessly fuck it over as if it didn’t mean a thing! As if all we’ve been through, everything we created is worthless. I’m so goddamn angry all the time! And I don’t… I don’t think I could go through this ever again.”

“You’re right, Cas. Of course you’re right. I can’t even imagine what’s it like for you – I honestly don’t know what I’d do if it was you who did that to me. And of course you’re angry – you have every right to hate me, I fucking do. But Cas, if you give me this chance, you’ll never have to go through this again. I would never do this to you again. And even if it doesn’t work out, I promise you this much – we will be truly and irreversibly over before I sleep with anyone else. I will never do this to you again.’

“I have to think, Dean. I don’t know,” I tell him, because honestly, my head is full of a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. And there’s hope. Hope that I tried to bury so much. 

“Okay, okay. It’s all I ask for – think about this. Please don’t let this be over if there’s any chance at all we could move past this. And I promise you, Cas, I really will do whatever it takes.”

 

###  November 2010

 

I moved back home a week ago. It’s slow going, this ‘trying again’ process, but it’s going. Dean’s true to his word so far – he goes to see Pamela once a week and he’s more attentive and caring than ever before. 

He’s also tiptoeing around me. It’s infuriating. He looks at me as if at any moment now I’ll stand up, say ‘oh, well, we tried, it sucks’ and walk away. I decided to give us one more chance and I’m going to stick to it. 

We date now. I mean we are living together, but he’s asking me to have date nights every once in a while and he never shies away from me anymore. It’s refreshing, this sort of freedom; I don’t have to constantly think about not standing too close to him or not leaning in too much and that’s definitely something I could live with. 

But it’s not easy and I don’t know if it ever will be again. I’m still so mad at him – I try the best I can to not think about it and not to get angry over stupid shit, but I can’t seem to shake it. I think I’ll have to follow his lead and find a therapist, because he’s trying and I love him and I don’t want to let this anger ruin any chance we have to be happy again.

 

###  December 2010

 

It’s the imbalance that got to me. Things were good, they really were, but Dean had put me on some sort of pedestal and it was maddening. He looked at me like I was doing him a favor all the time and I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted him back – I wanted the guy who didn’t put up with my bullshit and called me out when I was wrong. I wanted him to get me out of my messed up head when I got lost in it instead of clearing everything else away so I didn’t get bothered. I wanted Dean, who got pissed when I was late or didn’t call him when I got so distracted by my writing I literally lost time. I wanted  _ him  _ back. Instead I had a guy who was submissive and overly docile. Now there’s nothing wrong with him being submissive in bed – we can certainly attest to that – but in real life and all the time? Not so much. I tried talking to him, but he didn’t listen. It was as if now that I had come back and was trying to forgive him, he was trying to punish himself. It was infuriating, but the worst thing was I didn’t even notice when I messed up and that’s just horrible. Like a few days ago. Although that’s probably not right, because then I knew I screwed up, I just didn’t realize how badly.

 

We spent Christmas with our families, barring John, of course. Even Gabriel came, although he’s still glaring daggers at Dean whenever he can. But he did come, as did Sam and Jess, Bobby and Ellen and Jo. It was actually amazing – a well needed and well deserved break spent with our families. Well, my siblings couldn’t make it, but I’d spent over an hour on Skype with them, so it wasn’t that bad.

Anyway, after all of them left, and Gabriel had passed out on the couch, Dean and I cleaned up and went to bed. It was a great day and we were both relaxed, fed and buzzed and overall happy.

“I missed this,” Dean had sighed. “You know, just being with our families – no drama just a good day with people we love.”

“I know,” I agreed and nuzzled closer to him. “We did good.”

“Hell, yeah, we did! I mean not for nothing, but I’d marry the turkey I made in a heartbeat.”

I laughed at that. “Modest as always, I see. But you’re right, the turkey was awesome.”

“I’d marry you in a heartbeat as well,” he said kissing the top of my head.

And I… Well, I freaked out.

“No,” I said pulling away from him.

“Cas?”

“I said no. I don’t want to get married. I will never go through that again. No.”

“Cas, I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t care, Dean! I know you mean nothing with this, but let me make it clear for both of us – I will never marry you.”

He looked at me for what felt like an eternity, then stood up and walked away.

I knew I screwed up then, of course I knew it, but it still took me half an hour to calm down and get my shit together enough to go find him. 

I found him in the garage, sitting in his beloved car and, unsurprisingly, drinking. I pushed him to scoot over and climbed into the car with him. Then took a long drag from the bottle he’s been working on and gave it back.

“I’m sorry,” I said at last.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he said, but he didn’t meet my eyes once.

“What I said… I freaked out, Dean.”

“No, I get it. ‘Course I get it. Why would you…” He sighed and that’s when I heard a soft sob escaping him. 

I took his face in my hands and made him look at me then.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It was wrong and unfair of me to say that. I didn’t really mean it that way. I freaked out and I lashed out and for that I’m really sorry.”

“You were the only one, you know?”

“What are you talking about?” I frowned.

“The only one who ever looked at me and thought I deserved to be happy. Who looked at me and saw someone worthy. And I broke it. I lost it…”

“Jesus, Dean!” I slid my hand into his hair and dragged him closer so I could kiss him. “That’s not it at all.”

This close up even in the near darkness of the garage, I could see his eyes were glistening with unshed tears and it broke my heart. I did that to him.

“Dean, listen to me,” I asked and took a deep breath. “I don’t think you don’t deserve to be happy or that you’re unworthy or any other shit you’ve been telling yourself. I don’t think so and I never did. I think you’re… You’re everything to me.”

“But I… But you…” he stammered.

“Dean, you have to understand – it’s been horrible. Not you, but the whole cheating, breaking up, canceling the wedding thing – it’s been horrible. It felt like my whole world fell apart and the only thing that’d been constant – my best friend, my everything, was a terrible lie. Like maybe I imagined you, maybe it was never real and I was too blind, too stupid to see. I went through our whole relationship in my head over and over again trying to see if I missed something, if this was there all along and I just didn’t see. It’s terrifying, Dean, to question everything you felt so certain about in your life. Hannah says people go through a dissociation process and at first I just thought it’s another of her therapy mumble jumble, but when I really think of it – it’s precisely it. I separated the two of you – you before the whole thing happened, and you who did that, who was capable of doing it. And I was so goddamn angry at this you – the one who did that, and I missed so much the one who used to love me and who I was so sure would never do this to me. And it’s so wrong! Because you are you – with your flaws, with your mistakes and your shitty habits, but also with your kindness and ability to love, with your protectiveness and selflessness. All of you – I chose all of you and I don’t want to dissociate anymore.”

“I just feel so guilty all the time, Cas. I feel like nothing I do is enough, you know? Like I can never make it up to you. Like you can finally see the mess of the man I am and you’ll never want me again.”

“I always wanted you, Dean. Hannah says it’ll take time, this whole forgive and forget process, but I want it to happen and I’m trying. But you have to stop beating yourself on my behalf. You have to come back to me – not this overbearingly sweet guy, but the one who called me out and gave me grief when I was wrong. I came back, Dean, and you have to come back too.”

“But… You said you’d never marry me, Cas. And I know marriage is important to you. Do we have an end date then? You’re just with me until you find someone worthy to marry?”

“Oh, Jesus – the things that happen in your head, Dean…” I sighed. “Look, I freaked out. I didn’t mean it the way you think at all. I didn’t mean you’re not worthy to marry me or some shit. I don’t think so, do you hear me? I don’t think you don’t deserve me or any other stupid shit running through your head. What I meant was that it’d been traumatic enough to go through this once and I don’t want it to ever happen again. I don’t want to put this pressure on us, to stress us out again. You never really wanted to get married and I think this was also one of the reasons your father’s words got to you so much. This is not what you think a family is and I pushed you into this somehow. And I won’t do it again. I’m fine with being this with you. I don’t want to strain us again and I don’t want to put this pressure on you. We were happy before deciding to get married and I want that. I want us to be happy again.”

“You didn’t… Cas, I proposed to you. You didn’t make me do anything – I wanted to get married.”

“Did you, though? You didn’t want to be a part of any preparations and you answered ‘whatever, you choose’ to all the questions I had. I convinced myself it was just the wedding part that you weren’t interested in, but was it? We were so much happier before this whole marriage thing and I want just that for us – to be happy.”

“I… You’re right,” he said at last, after thinking through what I had said. “I somehow always thought marriage is something you wanted and I was fine with going along with it. I never actually thought about whether or not I wanted it. But then you left and you said we were over and I… Cas, it killed me knowing I’ll never get to call you my husband. I may not have really thought about me wanting marriage before, but I sure as hell thought a lot about it later. I want to marry you, Cas. I want to call you my husband and I want us to be a real family. Not that we aren’t now, but real in a sense that if I have to go to a hospital someday, you can come visit me and not be bothered. But most of all, I want you to know that this isn’t some sort of settling for me. It’s a commitment I want to make to you and us that I’ll love you and be with you through everything and anything.

So I gaped at him for good thirty seconds.

“Fuck,” I said at last. “Fuck, I want that too.” 

 

So here we are, standing in line at the City Hall, holding hands and waiting for our marriage certificate to be done. We’re married. We’re husbands.


	3. Married

##  MARRIED

 

###  December 2014

 

I wish I could say it’s the first time I sit alone in the kitchen, stare at burgers and pie steadily going cold and marvel just how much of an idiot I am. Not the first time, no. Not even a fifth time, come to think of it. But perhaps the last one.

It’s our fourth wedding anniversary. We got married on December 31 st so our wedding anniversary celebrations are usually big and full of people. They celebrate New Year, of course, but still. This year though, we decided to get out of cold and rainy Boston and go to San Francisco. Just the two of us – to celebrate, to relax and just spend some time together. We’ve been busy, lately. I have my book adaptation and a contract to make it into a proper big screen script underway, with two rewrites if needed. Dean’s got this big project at work he’s heading – he invented a new form of transmission which was acquired by NASA and he’s now working on adapting it so it’d be able to sustain the harsh environments of Mars. It’s big and Dean’s stressed as hell. It’s not like he can go and repair it if something happens on Mars and apparently there’d been failures of similar devices before and he doesn’t want anything like that to happen to his one too. And of course there’s the Braedens.

Anyway, we’ve been busy and it did put a strain on us so this getaway was very much anticipated and needed. Five full days of doing nothing in particular, not getting out of bed till noon and just being together. I couldn’t wait.

We’re packed already. We’re leaving late tonight, but Dean’s hours are unpredictable at times, so I insisted we’d be ready in case he’s a little late. Good foresight, as it happens.

We were supposed to have a pre-celebratory dinner before going to the airport. Dean’s a nervous flyer, so getting him fed and slightly buzzed is the best thing we can do so he relaxes a little. Hence the burgers and pie. Dean’s better at burgers – he’s always been better at them and frankly, even though I’d never tell Ellen that, his burgers are the best I ever had. But I make a good pie. Gabriel taught me that – with his sweet tooth it’s no wonder he ended up owning a bakery. And since I help him out sometimes, he taught to me to bake.

Dean was supposed to be back home two hours ago. I thought he might be late, but I envisioned an hour, one and a half at most. I was wrong. 

I called him fifteen minutes ago.

“Dean, where are you? Is everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Fuck, I meant to call you, sorry.”

“It’s alright. You sound in a hurry – are you coming home?”

“That’s what I wanted to tell you. Look, Lisa called me – Ben got into trouble at school and it’s parents teachers night and the principal wanted to talk to his parents.”

“Okay… So, I assume Lisa went there? Is Ben okay? Did something happen?”

“No, it’s… Look, she asked me to go with her. The kid’s in this phase and I know how to deal with it, because I was this kid once. And Lisa’s kind of lost, so she asked me to come with. You know, to speak to the principal and then to Ben. I’m on my way to school now.”

“So let me get this straight – you’re going to the school as Ben’s parent together with Lisa?” I asked slowly.

“Well, not as a parent, obviously. But they need me and I wanna help. Ben’s a good kid, but he needs someone to talk to and you know… Someone who’d understand what he’s going through. So I want to know what his principal thinks is going on and then I’m taking them for ice-cream and basically a heart to heart.”

“You do realize we had plans, right?” I ask, still in a carefully controlled tone.

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. But the kid needs me, Cas. I can’t just leave him hanging.”

“The kid also has a mother. Look, I don’t want to sound bitchy here, but this is getting ridiculous. We’re leaving in two hours Dean – how the hell do you think you’re going to manage that?”

“We can go tomorrow. Look, I’ll call and rebook the tickets for tomorrow morning, alright?”

“It’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow, Dean! Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get the tickets in the first place? And now you’re just going to rebook it for tomorrow?” I hated how I sounded, I really did, but I was literally at the end of my patience by then. And his flippancy, like none of it mattered was making me see red.

“So we’ll go next time. It’s just a trip, Cas! You’re being a baby! What’s the big deal?”

“What’s the big deal…” I muttered, all the fight leaving me at once. What’s the big deal, indeed? “Alright, Dean. Sorry for bothering you. Have a nice evening with your family.”

“Cas, don’t do this shit to me. I just want to help out a friend. I know we had plans, but we’ll do something else tomorrow. It’s just a trip, for crying out loud. I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No, you know what? You’re right. It’s just a fucking trip. What the hell was I thinking expecting to spend my wedding anniversary with my husband on a trip we planned for ages? You clearly have more important things to do, so don’t worry about it. Not a big deal.”

“Cas…” He started, but it was just the same distracted tone of voice that meant his mind was elsewhere, so I hung up the phone.

 

Now I sit here, staring at the burgers and pie and I’m breaking my own heart once again. Because they need him. Because Dean found a family that’s not me. Because what’s the big deal, right?

It started just over two years ago, I think. I didn’t think anything of it at first. So he bumped into an old girlfriend who had a son now. Her husband had died when Ben was just a baby, so it was just the two of them. They’d moved to Boston recently and Lisa didn’t know many people here, so it made sense that Dean met up with her couple of times to show her around and help her meet new people. She’s nice, Lisa. She’s smart, drop dead gorgeous and has a killer sense of humor. Honestly, I liked her a lot. Jo and Ellen didn’t and at first, I couldn’t understand why, but I suppose they saw things much sooner than I did.

Ben was nine and since none of our friends had children that age, there were little opportunities to meet. So Dean, who liked Ben from the get go, started visiting them on his own. They’d go to parks, the zoo, bakeries, movies and so on. I came along sometimes, but not too much, because frankly I always felt like a third wheel, like I was intruding on something. I guess that should’ve been my first clue. It wasn’t.

It was gradual and I think because it was so gradual, I didn’t notice it for the longest time. So Dean stopped going to his therapist. He’s been doing great I had no reason to doubt him when he said it didn’t make sense to keep spending money when he’s doing so good. He promised to go once in a while anyway and it sounded good to me. Not a big deal. So I had to check what his plans were for Sundays before planning something for us. No big deal. So I had to make sure Dean’s available for my books’ release parties or signings. So I had to inform him at least a month before something important was happening in my life if I wanted him to be there. Not a big deal. So he’d cancel on me from time to time. So he’d rush to Lisa’s in the middle of the night because Ben got a fever. So he didn’t show up for the movies he wanted to see without calling me, because Lisa and Ben needed a lift. No big deal.

So he missed my birthday party he organized, because he lost time at Lisa’s. So he forgot my next birthday. So all our family holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas now include Lisa and Ben as well. So I had to call a taxi to get me home from the hospital I ended up at after slipping and getting a concussion, because I was too embarrassed to ask Sam or Gabriel for a lift while Dean got held up at Ben’s birthday party. Not a big deal. So he cancels all our wedding anniversary plans, because he wants to go to a parent teacher conference with Lisa. So he’s never there for me. So I’m always alone. So I’m so far down his list of priorities he doesn’t seem to see me anymore. What’s the big deal?

‘I’ll see you on Tuesday. Happy New Year. C.’ I write on a piece of paper, which I pin to the fridge. At least my bag’s packed, so I grab it, along with my ticket and walk away. I have some thinking to do after all, because maybe, just maybe, it is a big deal.

 

###  January 2015

 

Instead of spending five days with my husband, relaxing and having fun, I spend five days thinking about what the hell I am doing with my life. It was long overdue, I think. I go through all the times Dean’s been absent from our marriage as well as through all the times he wasn’t so I don’t get fixated. I don’t want to make a rash decision and then regret it later on, so I force myself to think of all the good times and all the bad ones. I know that when I make the decision, I’m going to stick to it – that’s just how I am and I don’t want to make the wrong one. I think I’m just scared shitless, because the solution is glaringly obvious. So I try to think of all the good times too. 

I remember our first wedding anniversary. Fuck, we were so happy then. We had this big party with all of our loved ones. Everyone was pissed when they found out we got married without telling anyone and so we decided to throw a belated wedding-slash-New Year’s Eve party. John was not invited, of course, but everyone else came and we just celebrated and drank and played stupid party games and were just so ridiculously, stupidly happy. 

I also remember the time Sam and Jess announced they were expecting. Jesus, you’d’ve thought it was Dean’s and my baby - we were ridiculously overjoyed. Jess was glowing and Sam couldn’t sit still with happiness, but when they said we’d be the best uncles any kid could wish for, Dean and I did all we could not to start bawling there and then.

I remember our holidays three years ago. We went to the Grand Canyon. Neither of us had been there before, so we just loaded the car and drove there, stopping at every tourist trap there was on the way, making silly pictures and emailing them to Sam and Jess who was due in three weeks. We went camping and we stopped at shitty motels and we sat humming to AC/DC and holding hands as the miles went by. Fuck, we were so happy… 

And it’s a perfect juxtaposition to what we have now, because now Dean is… Well, he isn’t really with me anymore. I don’t think he’s cheating on me – despite what happened before, I trust him with that much. When he’s with me, he certainly doesn’t give me reasons to doubt he loves me – he’s attentive and caring and most importantly I don’t think he’s the kind of a person to actually have a full blown affair. It’s not Lisa I’m worried about, not really. But… Dean has always wanted a traditional family – a wife and a kid and I think with them he sees how the things could be and how much he’s missing out. He always had problems with coming to terms that families come in different forms and shapes. A wife and 2.5 kids - that’s what real family is to Dean and all the rest… Well, it’s fairly good too, but I don’t think it can ever be as good, as perfect as this imaginary ‘apple pie life’ he’s crafted in his head. There’s also the fact that Dean would be an amazing father and part of me wants that for him. The more I think of it, the less pissed at him I am. It seems sort of inevitable that this should’ve happened sooner or later.

Dean called me couple of times while I was away, but frankly I just wanted to think for a little while, so I texted him that we’d talk after I got back. He texted couple of times too, but I haven’t read the texts yet. I think he’s just surprised I actually left, but that’s not something that can’t wait until I get back. He didn’t call me on New Year’s Eve though and I wondered if he was pissed at me or simply too busy with the Braedens to remember calling me. I’m not sure I would’ve picked up anyway, so again – not a big deal. But it made me wonder nevertheless. On the other hand I just wanted to spend some time without any distractions and well, it worked. By the time I had to go back to Boston my mind was made up, but before I went home, there was one more stop I had to make.

 

“Hello, Dean,” I greet him when he comes home Tuesday evening. He wasn’t at home when I got back, but that didn’t surprise me much. I had long since stopped expecting him to sit around and wait for me.

“Hello, Dean?” he bites out. “That’s what you say after bailing on me? Where the fuck have you been?”

“In San Francisco. I thought that was obvious,” I tell him calmly. We have a lot to talk about and I don’t want us to start yelling from the get go.

“So you actually went on the trip alone?”

“I had some things to think through and the trip was already paid for, so…”

“It was our wedding anniversary, Cas, and you went alone?” he asks somewhat incredulous and it certainly rubs me the wrong way.

“Well, you weren’t coming with me, so what did you expect? Was I supposed to take someone else with me?”

“For fuck sake, since when do we spend our wedding anniversary separately?!” he yells.

“Since the Braedens, apparently,” I snarl back at him even though I told myself I wouldn’t.

“Don’t you fucking give me this shit! So I wanted to help them out – what the hell is wrong with that? That was no reason for you to leave like that!”

“What would you have me do, Dean? Sit around and wait until you have time to grace me with your presence? I’ve done that more than enough, I think, and I’m sick of it! You want to be with them so much? Just fucking go and do that, but don’t expect me to be waiting for you forever, because you know what – I won’t!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m late the one time and all of the sudden you go all drama queen on me?”

At this I just laugh. It’s an ugly laugh – angry and heartbroken all at once. If I ever wondered if he really sees me anymore, that settles it.

“The one time?” I laugh. “You’re late the one time?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You’re drunk, or something?”

I shake my head and try to calm down.

“I wish,” I tell him and take a deep breath. “Sit down, Dean. We’ll talk.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you,” he grits out still standing on the other side of the room and I just nod steeling myself.

“Look, Dean… I think it’s pretty obvious all of this is screwed up.”

“You can say that again,” he mutters, and I sigh.

“I don’t think I have to. What I will say though is that I filed for divorce today.”

“What?” Dean’s head snaps up to look me in the eye. “You did what?”

“I filed for divorce,” I repeat.

“Because I missed one trip? You’re leaving me because I missed one trip?” He sounds so incredulous, so shocked as if he hadn’t been living in this farce of a marriage with me for a long time.

“No, Dean, it’s not because you missed one trip. I filed for divorce because you missed one marriage.”

“What the hell, Cas?” he asks wide eyed like he can’t believe what’s happening.

“Look, the reason I left on that trip was to think through what’s going on with our lives and how to move forward. I’ve done a lot of thinking in these past days, but I’ve done even more of that in this past year or so. I just needed to clear my head and put things in order. The truth is, Dean, we’re not really together anymore as it is.”

“What do you mean we’re not together? We’re married, Cas!”

“Yes, but being married is not a certificate we got four years ago. Being married is actually being together, being there for each other, sharing things – good and bad – with each other and that, Dean, that is not what we are.”

“Of course it is!” he protests.

“Think about it, Dean,” I ask trying to remain calm. “Really think about it. When was the last time we even went out together? When was the last time you came to any of my work related events? Or to my family dinners? When was the last time we had any sort of family thing together? Even last Thanksgiving – you spent nearly the entire evening with Lisa and her family, although we had our families coming over. I feel like I spend more family time with Sam’s family and Gabriel than I do with you.”

“That’s not… That’s not…”

“But it is. You’re always at Lisa’s. Be it Sunday lunch, or Ben’s weekday practices, or his games or her work parties. They always come first and frankly, I think it’s time to cut the middle man and just let you be where you so desperately want to be.”

“But… But… I don’t want to divorce you. I don’t want to lose you!”

“No? Then why are you never here? Why are you always with them?” I ask not really expecting an answer, but rather making him actually think.

“I…” He stops and for the first time I think he really thinks about this. I give him time – after all I want him to understand and accept this. “I didn’t realize I was spending so much time with them.”

“I know,” I agree. “And that’s exactly the problem. You didn’t even notice we’re never together anymore. You choose to spend your time with your new family and I… I just can’t do this anymore.”

“I’ll stop, okay? I’ll stop spending all my time there. I mean I’m not saying I’ll never see them again, because you can’t ask that of me, but I’ll make sure I’m here enough too.” He looks at me frantically and my heart clenches for him. I wish I could just take the scraps of his affection and be happy with it. I can’t though, that’s not who I am.

“No, Dean. That’s not what I ask of you. You chose your family and whether I like it or not, it’s not me.”

“That’s bullshit, Cas. You are my family. I got sidetracked for a little while, but I’ll do better. You can’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you, Dean. I’m just moving aside.”

“What the hell do you mean? I don’t want you to move aside or some shit!”

“We’re not happy,” I tell him quietly. “I’m not happy. I’m alone all the time and I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be so lonely when I’m married. Frankly, for the last six months I felt like a fucking mistress in my own marriage – just waiting for the scraps of your attention when you spend all your time with your family.”

“I’m not cheating on you, Cas,” He says quietly, earnestly. “I know how it must look, but I promised you and I’m not cheating on you.”

“I don’t think you are.” I nod. “I trust you and I believe you’re not sleeping with Lisa. But Dean, apart from sex, you are the perfect husband I could’ve ever wished for, except you’re a perfect husband for Lisa. Now, while still married to me.”

“That’s not true!”

“But it is. You’re always there for them. You take care of them and you spend all of your free time with them. You know all the small details of their lives and you share all their important moments. You don’t forget their birthdays and Ben’s games. You’re literally amazing for them.”

“I’m your husband,” he insists quietly.

“You sleep with me. That hardly makes you my husband.”

“I can’t believe this…”

“It’s not a bad thing, Dean,” I tell him. “Not for you, anyway.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll finally get to have a family you always dreamt of.”

“Oh, not this again! You’re my family!”

“Am I? Really? After all this?” I can’t help it. I’m on the verge of tears, so instead of letting myself succumb to it, I grasp at all the disappointment and resentment that lingers in me. “Dean, I can’t even remember the last time you told me you loved me! For fuck’s sake! You forget everything there is about me. You never show up to my work events, even when I clear them up with you a month in advance! You forgot my last birthday! When you called me from work that day, I was sure you’d at least say happy birthday to me, instead you told me Ben wanted to go for ice-cream and that you’d be late. I actually thought you were planning something for us and this was just a ruse. But of course I got back home and you weren’t there. And then you got back home, asked me what I was doing up that late and went to bed.”

“Fuck…”

“And then when people asked me about what I did for my birthday, I just said we spent a quiet evening at home together, because I was too ashamed to tell anyone my husband actually forgot about it.”

“Fuck, Cas, I’m so sorry…”

“But I mean, it’s not a big deal, it’s just a birthday. Although now I think of it, it was Ben’s birthday when you refused to pick me up from the hospital even though you knew I couldn’t drive myself. So I suppose it’s not a birthday that’s not a big deal, it’s me.”

“Cas…” He tries again, but I plough on.

“That’s my reality, Dean. That’s what this family is to me. It’s constantly being alone. It’s constantly being made feel that I don’t matter. But I suppose that’s exactly what this is. I just don’t matter to you. But guess what - I’d rather be this insignificant when I’m alone, not when I’m supposedly married.”

“You’re not insignificant…” he whispers. “Fuck, did I really do all this? How did I… Why?”

“If I can hazard a guess, I’d say it’s because you finally met someone you feel you can spend your life with. Unfortunately for both of us, you were already married at the time,” I say and I know it’s bitter, but I’m hurt and my heart is broken once again and I just can’t help it.

“I don’t want Lisa, Cas. I want you,” he says weakly.

“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you’d have missed me the same way I missed you. You’d have noticed we’re not together anymore. You’d have done something, anything at all, to bring us back together. Instead you created this new life that no longer has a place in it for me.”

“I can’t lose you…”

“No, you’re scared of losing me and that’s not the same. I mean I get it. We were together for a long time. But at the end of the day - I’m still just a fuck buddy to you.”

“That’s not fair, Cas.”

“Isn’t it? I feel like such an idiot right now. You never wanted this, not really. This was supposed to be a temporary convenient fuck, nothing else. I should have known there’s no way you’d actually want me for life.”

“I love you, Cas! I married you!”

“Do you want a medal for that? I married you too! Yet somehow I stayed with you through thick and thin, but as soon as something better walked into your life, you were through with me. A placeholder then. I was just a placeholder until you found a real family. I guess my services are no longer required.”

“That’s not true and you know it. I screwed up, okay? I get it, I screwed up. And I’m sorry, I really am, but you can’t tell me this wasn’t real, because for me it sure was!”

“That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that we always had an end date and I should’ve known it. I should’ve known I was never going to be enough for you. I should’ve known there’s no way of competing with a fantasy!”

“What fantasy? What are you talking about?”

“Real family, Dean! Your perception of what real family is! A wife and a kid. A real family you are supposed to have.”

“I never thought our family wasn’t real!”

“No? Then what is it about? Why did you leave me alone in this marriage?” I ask him and apparently I’m at the end of my patience, because I can’t hold back a sob that wrenches out.

“Fuck, Cas…” Dean mutters and finally sits beside me taking my hands into his. “I screwed up, that’s what it is. But I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“And I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to always feel like I’m not good enough. I don’t want to be this unimportant to someone I love. I don’t want to compete for your attention, to basically beg for it. I’d rather be alone, do you understand? I’d rather be alone than with someone who clearly wants to be elsewhere.”

“I don’t want to be elsewhere. Cas, please, you have to believe me - I love you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“So tell me - what would change? If I stayed, what would change?”

“I’ll be home more. I won’t forget our things. I won’t spend all of my time with Lisa and Ben anymore. I’ll come to your work things and we’ll do more ‘our time’. I’ll be here with you.”

“How long, Dean? How long before you realize that’s not what you want? How long before you start drifting again? How long before you walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away.”

“Okay, so answer me this - if I asked you not to see Lisa and Ben anymore, what would you do?”

“That’s not fair, Cas. You know they’re important to me. I get that I let this get out of hand and that I shouldn’t have, but you can’t ask me to cut them out of my life.”

“I’m not going to, I just want you to think about it. What happens when it’s Ben’s game night and I have a book release event? What happens when it’s Thanksgiving and Lisa invites you over? What happens when we have a wedding anniversary and Lisa has a New Year’s party?”

“What do you want me to say? I’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t want you to say anything, I want you to fucking think. I want you to answer to yourself truthfully - how much down the line of priorities am I to you? Am I ever going to come first? Or are you asking me to live this life when I’m always the second or third or what-the-fuck-ever? Do I really not deserve someone putting me first once in a while?”

“You… Of course you deserve that. Fuck, of course you do…” He mutters hiding his head in his hands.

“But it’s not going to be you, is it? It’s never going to be you.”

“I love you…” He tries once again.

“I know, Dean, but cliché as it may be - love is not always enough. I want someone to be proud of being with me. I want someone to love me enough to put my needs first from time to time. I want someone to be happy for me and want to share things with me. I want someone who’d never even consider spending our anniversaries apart. I want someone who’d love me the way I fucking love you.” I sob once again. “And if I can’t have that, if I really don’t deserve that, then I don’t want to live with someone pretending that I do. I’d rather be alone than this.”

“You deserve it. All of it - you deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Dean. But the truth is we’re not making each other happy and we haven’t been for a long time. So it’s time to stop this and move on, because I for one can’t continue like this. I’m going insane Dean and if I don’t do anything I’m really going to believe I don’t deserve to be happy or loved, so I have to get out while I still can.”

“I want you to be happy. Fuck, of course I want you happy. I just… I can’t believe I did this to us.”

“Stop. It’s not a guilt trip, Dean. It took us both to wreck this relationship.”

“Of course you’d say so… Jesus, I can’t believe this is happening. How am I supposed to live without you?”

“You’re not going to be alone, Dean. You have Lisa and Ben. And Sam’s going to be there for you.”

“That’s not… I can’t even think about this now. Fuck… You’re my best friend, Cas. I’m not just losing a husband, I’m also losing a best friend.”

“We haven’t been best friends for some time now. You’re going to be fine. You have your family here and you have your friends. You’re not going to be alone.”

“And what about you? What are you going to do?”

“Well… I actually liked California. I suppose I could move there.”

“What?! You’re… you’re… I’m not gonna even see you anymore?”

“You know I’ve been working on the script for ‘Wayward Sons’. The shooting will start soon and it makes sense to go there since I have a contract for all necessary rewrites as well. I don’t have to, but I think… I think I need to. I think changing the scene, so to say, would be good for me.”

“No. You can’t… All of our friends are here, Cas. And Gabriel. What would you do there? You’d be all alone.”

“As you said - all of our friends. Ours, Dean. You’ll want to bring your new family to the outings and things and I really can’t… I can’t see that now. Not now.”

“So what, you think you walk away from me and the next day I’m at Lisa’s? What do you take me for? It’s my marriage too and just in case you missed it - I don’t want Lisa.”

“Tell me, Dean. Whom did you spend your New Year’s Eve with?” I ask instead and he flinches.

“That’s not… You weren’t here and I just didn’t want to be alone, so…”

“Well then, that answers your question - I’m out and you’re with them.”

“That’s not the same, Cas… I was pissed, I thought you left for this one thing, this one late evening and I was pissed. But Cas, that doesn’t change things - I don’t want Lisa, I want you.”

“Don’t make me pep talk you into pursuing a relationship with her. That’s not fair and I don’t want to do it. Think about it yourself - if you don’t, then you don’t. But frankly I don’t see why not.”

“How about because I love you?”

“That never stopped you from being there with her. We’re getting divorced, Dean. You already basically live with them. Is it really that much of a stretch to think you’d go for them?”

“I… I don’t know what to say. What makes you even think Lisa’d take me?”

“Oh please, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about any of this. I can’t think about you leaving me. I can’t think about not getting to see you every day. I can’t think! I need a drink.”

“You and me both, my friend.” I finally agree with him. “You up for getting wasted one last time?”

And that’s exactly what we do. We also have sex that night - drunken and sloppy, clinging to each other and saying we love each other. I’m fairly certain we both cry at some point, but through all this we both know it doesn’t change anything. Sex was never a problem for us and what’s broken between us cannot be put together by kisses or words. We’re pretty sure it can’t be put together at all.


	4. Divorced

##  DIVORCED

 

###  July 2016

 

All in all life in San Francisco is treating me well. It’s a gross understatement of course, because professionally my life has never been better. The movie I signed the contract to write the script for was released last month and frankly for the last two months my life has been never ending interviews, shows and premiers. And also fans.

I had fans before - my books are weirdly popular. I think there’s just something universally appealing about kids facing and most importantly defeating monsters without stopping being kids. That’s something that made me write about it too - I believe that horrors that would crack a grown up mind like a watermelon bounce back from bendy and largely innocent minds of kids. Their ability to accept the inexplicable as a fact of life and move on is remarkable. And in books I explore friendships that are stronger than death and supernatural horrors, because we’re only friends like that when we’re children.

You see the perseverance of children in daily life too - survivors of the abuse and horrors that humans can inflict are a perfect example of real life heroes. These kids, who manage to smile and move forward after experiencing things we sometimes think are impossible to survive and certainly don’t want to think about, are worthy of all the praise and all the support. With that in mind I started a non-profit organization that works with kids surviving abuse. They need help, of course they do, but if there’s someone to actually help them, be there for them, their minds have remarkable capabilities to mend themselves. It leaves scars, it always does, but scars are better than festering wounds and I do all I can to help as many as possible. And here’s why fans are so important. Fans have immense power. People, fans included, don’t always understand the power fans have. They are driving force of all the creative efforts, because without them who’d we create for? But most importantly, when given the possibility and a cause they can get behind, they can actually move mountains. 

I’m quite vocal about my cause, my books, and overall my admiration of the fans. This movie gave me a platform, a stage to speak from, and I try to use it for a good cause. To rally for the ones that can't defend themselves or need help. Somehow it also gained me a lot of fans. I don’t know what it is - maybe they get behind my cause, maybe they do like the books so much, maybe they just believe I’m one of them - and I certainly am - but they support and encourage me with their ranks growing by the minute.

Yes, a lot of people, fans and not, donate money and given my ‘somewhat celebrity’ status I can get really wealthy people to contribute; but the driving force, the hands that actually build and restore - those are of my fans. There’s also a downside of that power, but I’ll get back to that a little later.

I’m dating someone now. It’s not serious and I made sure we’re both aware of that - I don’t want to string someone along when I’m not ready for a serious relationship. I tried that already and it backfired spectacularly. 

I met Meg couple of months after I moved to San Francisco. After college we sort of lost touch - it happens when people move on with their lives and when you have so much going in on in yours you barely have time to keep up with all of the friends that are actually around. Meg moved back to Atlanta after college and although we tried to stay in touch, after a while it petered out and so I was surprised when I saw her here. Apparently she moved to San Francisco with a boyfriend a couple of years back, but it didn’t work out. I’m not sure what happened, Meg just said they were not in the same place at the time. She asked about Dean, of course, so I told her about the divorce. Not much, just that it didn’t work out in the end. We met for coffees a couple of times and then for dinner and before I knew it we were basically going out. So I cut to the chase and asked her out properly.

We dated for three months. It was easy - I always liked Meg and she’s generally a good person when you get over her biting and sometimes overly sarcastic way of speech. We have a lot in common and there’s shared history there. And I know she always had a special place in her heart for me. But… But there was always something lacking. She’s amazing and I wish I could’ve gone all in, but the truth is I just couldn’t. Maybe it’s just a wrong time kind of thing, maybe we were always better off as friends, but soon it was obvious to me we’re not going to work. Now if I had told her I wasn’t sure I was ready for a relationship in the first place, she’d probably would have expected it, but I didn’t and so when I told her I wanted to stop dating her, I think I actually broke her heart. I know it hadn’t been long, but it had been long enough. I know that after three months with Dean I was head over heels for him and I knew he didn’t want a relationship, which makes it even worse when I think of Meg.

She handled it beautifully though - she said she understood and that she was fine, but I know her and I know I’d screwed up. I tried to make it up and give her space and I think it helped. We’re friends now - the kind of friends that go out to the bar and play wingman for each other, so I guess it’s not all bad. But after the whole thing I made sure to tell everyone I dated since I’m not looking for anything serious. That might be stupid and Meg says I’ll never find anything good if I keep doing it, but it feels fair at least. I hope one day I’ll once again feel I’m ready for something, but that day hasn't come yet. Not with memories of Dean still so fresh in my mind. Not when I still miss his smile. 

Anyway, I’m dating this guy Matt, now. He's actually a great guy - easy going, kind, nice, no drama kind of guy. We work together. The sequel of the movie that was just released is in pre-production stages and since it’s based on the sequel of my book, I signed the contract for screenwriting as well. Matt is one of the producers. He worked on the original one as well, but at the time I was dating Meg, so we only started going out recently. Matt is openly gay and he had a fortune of growing up in California with a very understanding and supportive family, so he doesn’t have so much baggage of being a gay guy. I am openly bi - it even says so on my Wikipedia page (and isn’t it crazy that I have a Wikipedia page?), so we don’t hide, even if we don’t flaunt it. There’s not much to hide though, when it’s relatively new and definitely not exclusive. But I do like Matt. It’s refreshing to be with someone who’s completely comfortable in his own skin. Being with Dean was never easy, even if it was totally worth it, while being with Matt is easy if not necessarily… No, I promised myself not to compare - it’s not fair to anyone and I don’t want to do it.

When I started working in this overly glamorous movie industry I made myself a promise not to get involved with any of the actors and so far this has not led me wrong. I don't know any group of people that are so much drama as actors. There’s always something with them - more often than not their egos. I’ve seen people literally scream at one another over a bagel in an open buffet - that’s the level of drama I’m talking about. So no actors, thank you very much. Although I do have to say, when the casting director told me one of the supporting roles, Jack, was cast and the actor is the one who used to star in Dr. Sexy, I had to pinch myself not to start laughing out loud. And then I also had to stop myself from calling Dean to tell him - his crush on Dr. Sexy was something incredible and I’m pretty sure if we’d still been together at that point, he’d come to visit me on set often. 

I want to think Dean saw the movie, though. He did like my books and I think he’d be interested in seeing the movie as well. I wonder what he thought about it and if he liked it. I also wonder if he laughed when he saw Dr. Sexy in it.

Unlike our relationship, our divorce was settled simply, efficiently and with no drama. We agreed on everything - neither one of us wanted to live in our house, so we sold it. We didn’t have any kids or pets, so that was not an issue. Neither wanted anything that belong to the other and when we spoke about things that we bought together, well. We each took some things that held emotional meaning to us and then donated the rest. Who wants to live surrounded by something reminding them a broken relationship anyway? So it was simple and quick. 

It wasn’t easy though, not for me anyway. I left Boston before I signed the final papers and honestly, I think that day actually cinched it for me. That was the day my marriage was really over - signing papers was just a formality after that. I remember waking up on the morning of the last day with red eyes and a damp pillow. I remember it was hard to breathe. I remember it feeling like something died in me. I remember stupidly hoping Dean would come get me in the airport like in a cheesy, trashy movie. I remember watching Boston get smaller and disappearing from view on the plane and I remember not being able to hold back tears. I remember landing in San Francisco and promising myself to never go through this again. And lastly I remember signing the divorce papers a few weeks later with steady hand and my eyes dry. That part of me was already dead - not the one that loved Dean, that one was very much alive; but the one that was his husband, that one was dead and mourned for.

So it wasn’t easy, of course it wasn’t. But the hollow ache and emptiness I felt when I first moved to San Francisco was gradually filled with work and books, new friends and co-workers, long walks on the beach and movie nights with Gabriel. I miss him still, but it’s not sharp anymore, it doesn’t feel like a punch in the gut every time I think of him. I miss him like somebody lost, like a phantom limb, like my first love. But I know how to live with it now, how to make myself forget, how to distract myself so the empty side of my bed wouldn’t mock me anymore. I can live without him, at last, even if there’s part of me that wishes I didn’t have to.

Sam and Jess came to visit me almost a year ago. They’re doing great actually. They got married six years ago and by the time of the visit Jess was already slightly round with their second child. I think she was roughly five months along and I know mothers-to-be are supposedly glowing during this time, but it was actually Sam who glowed more. It’s their second kid, but Sam couldn’t have been happier and prouder and I am honestly, truthfully happy for them. They had a baby since, of course, a healthy baby girl who they named Mary in honor of Sam’s mother. Sam sends me pictures sometimes – a proud father, how can he not?

Anyway, we spent a couple of days together. I showed them around the neighborhood and main attractions, as much as I knew them by then anyway, and we had a great time together. I missed them and I miss them still, so it was good to see them. Sam told me how all of our friends were doing, all the newest gossips and changes. I kept in touch with my friends anyway, but it’s not the same as being there and seeing them first hand. So Sam filled me in on all the small things that people forget to share on the phone or Skype. It was amazing hearing about them, imagining their reactions and facial expressions. It was a good night.

We both studiously avoided bringing up Dean. It was glaringly obvious, of course, but we tried. Until Sam asked me if he could tell me something about Dean.

“Do you have to?” I asked.

“Well… I mean I don’t have to, but there’s this problem and I think you could help.” He said sheepishly.

“Fine, what’s this about?”

“Look, Cas, I don’t want to bring this up, I really, really don’t, but it doesn’t only involve Dean and you and I think I should.”

“Spit it out, Sam.” I said.

“I… I assume you know Dean moved in with Lisa?” He asked.

I didn’t – Dean and I didn’t stay in touch, despite the promises we made to each other that we would. But it didn’t surprise me at all. This was what I thought he’d do all along and it only confirmed that leaving was the right decision. It still hurt though. It’s not easy to accept that I was replaced so simply and swiftly.

“Well… I thought as much.” I finally said.

“Oh… I thought you knew.” He flinched.

“It doesn’t really matter. I always knew he’d do it and just because I never asked anyone to confirm doesn’t mean this comes as a surprise to me.”

“Right… Um… I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t be. Our marriage is over and Dean’s at liberty to do whatever he wants to. They’re his family and I’m glad he’s happy at last.” I said trying to sound calm.

“He was happy with you, Cas.” Sam said slowly, but I never wanted his pity, so I shrugged it off.

“No, he really wasn’t. Anyway, I assume you didn’t bring this up just to speak about my failed marriage?”

“No, no.” He said and then paused and I’m pretty sure he was deciding if he should push the marriage thing anymore. Thankfully he decided not to. “So… well, he’s moved in with them and the thing is… They are being bothered.”

“What?” I asked confused.

“Your fans, Cas. I don’t know how it started or why, but your fans seem to think Dean cheated on you or something, so they’ve been sending him hate mail and all that shit.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” 

“I wish… No, look, I know it’s shitty of me to ask you to help out Dean and Lisa, but the thing is Ben’s also there and it’s just not fair to him.”

“Jesus, Sam! Of course you should have told me. Fuck, Dean should have told me, of course I’d do something about it!”

“You do know that almost everyone in your shoes would say ‘fuck it’ and let them go through this, right?”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I want them to be harassed by some delusional fans, who probably have no idea what they’re doing or why?” I asked.

“Because what Dean did to you and your marriage is… fucked up.”

“It’s not, though. He has every right to be happy and he wasn’t with me. If anything he should’ve left sooner. Or I should’ve. I don’t blame him.”

“Well, you should!” Sam snapped. “You should be pissed, because that’s not okay. He was married and that didn’t stop him from having whatever it was he had with Lisa anyway.”

“He didn’t cheat on me, Sam,” I said slowly.

“I know he didn’t. He swore to me he didn’t and I’m pretty sure he didn’t lie. But there are more ways of cheating than just having sex with someone and what he did… I think if I were you, I’d have left long before it got to that point.”

“He’s your brother, Sam. Shouldn’t you be on his side?” I said trying to lighten the mood.

“His side? Even Dean is not on his own side. And just for the record – you’re my brother too.”

I looked at him for a little longer and then pulled him into a hug.

“Thank you,” I said at last. “You’ve no idea how much that means to me. And as for Dean… Look, maybe he should’ve handled the whole thing differently, but you know what? So should I. I should have never married him. I should have never even dated him. I probably should have never been his friend. He wasn’t happy with me, Sam. He was never happy being with a man. He has this notion of what he’s supposed to be and being married to a guy is not part of that. He always wanted what he called ‘a real family’, as in a wife and 2.5 kids and instead he fell in love with his male friend.”

“It’s bullshit, Cas.”

“No, it’s not. Just because it’s hard for you to comprehend, doesn’t mean it’s not true. Dean had always wanted to be a different man, but I just didn’t see that. With him telling me he loved me and with him trying to make it work, I didn’t see that. But now… Now I know that Dean would’ve done anything to not love me. I think if he could, he would have gone back in time and made sure he never met me in the first place. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to be married to someone who only settled with you because he thought he had no other choice? That was my reality and yet I didn’t do anything about it for years. So it’s my fault as much as his and so I don’t blame him. And also, I really, honestly want him to be happy at last.”

“But… but…” Sam stammered, and I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“I made my peace with it, Sam. We made a mistake and now it’s over. We both have a chance at happiness at last and I, for one, am glad he’s pursuing his. That is not to say it doesn’t ridiculously suck, and I mean industrial level vacuum suck, but it’ll work out in the end. And so you, Sam, should be on his side. I don’t need my virtue to be defended by you or a horde of crazy fans, and I’m not a jilted lover, but knowing Dean – he needs you and you should be there for him.”

“I mean, I am.” Sam frowned. “It’s just hard to understand. He didn’t tell me everything, but he did tell me some and frankly it made no sense to me. I don’t even think it made sense to him, so… But you’re right and I am there for him, I just want you to know you have me in your corner as well, because if anything – I understand why you left, I just don’t quite get why he let you go.”

“Thanks.” I smiled at him. “Well now that this teary touchy crap is out of the way, why don’t we go find your wife and drag her for dinner?”

Which we did and then some. After Sam left I took it to Twitter – after all, the majority of my most dedicated fans followed me there, so I was pretty sure that the delusional ones did too. In a small string of tweets I told them stop. I told them my ex-husband was a good man and that sometimes relationships just don’t work and I asked them to leave him and his family alone. I also might have told them they were peeing against the wind, karmically speaking.

A couple of weeks later Sam told me the nasty letters had stopped and that Dean even got an anonymous apology letter, saying that they made a mistake and they were sorry and promising it’d stop. And that was that.

 

***

 

Today is a good day. Today I’m at Comic Con and I’m excited, overwhelmed and tired all at the same time. There’s nothing like it. It’s so… I don't even know how to describe it. It’s like a carnival, wrapped in a circus and sprinkled with cocaine. But still nerdy. It’s oxymoronic - it’s like nothing and everything I've seen. I love it. And I’m seeing Charlie today, because her girlfriend Gilda’s one of the producers on the new Star Wars movie so she’s here and of course Charlie’s here as well. I haven’t seen Charlie since I moved, but we Skype from time to time and I’m really excited to see her again. We’re meeting at one of the afterparties, but I think I also caught a glimpse of her at the Wayward Sons panel. It’s difficult to say, of course, with the lighting the way it is you can’t actually see anything from the stage, but I caught a glimpse of red hair and I think I heard her cheering, so I’m pretty sure it was her. 

The panel was great though. The actors were in the spotlight, which I honestly prefer, but I got a lot of questions asked as well. Everyone wants to know whether or not I’d be continuing with the series and if I’d be writing the next movie as well. Which I am doing that already, but today was the first time I actually announced it. The crowd went berserk with the news, just as expected, and I’m both thrilled and humbled with their reaction. There really is nothing else like being the center of that kind of attention.

I’m actually on my way to the afterparty when I finally spot Charlie and before I know it, I’m engulfed in one of her squishy hugs. We both laugh and I actually lift her up a little, ridiculously overjoyed at seeing her after so long. When I put her down though, I look around for Gilda as Charlie chats happily, but it’s not Gilda that I see and so I literally don’t hear a single thing she says, because against all rhyme and reason my heart stutters painfully as I lock eyes with Dean. It’s sickly sentimental, that’s what it is, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him for the longest couple of seconds of my life. When I finally shake myself out of it, I manage a smile.

“Hello, Dean.” I say and I swear he gulps before grinning.

“Cas!” He comes closer and I can see this moment’s indecision whether he’s still allowed a hug flit through his eyes, but then he dismisses it and wraps his arms around me.

“You’re here.” I mutter stupidly hugging him.

“Of course I’m here.” He says still not letting me go. “It’s Comic Con and your movie’s here. Of course I’m here.”

I don’t know what to say to that so I just let myself hug him for a moment longer. Damn, I missed him. And damn this is so not good…

Finally he lets go of me and we both shuffle back awkwardly.

“It’s good to see you both.” I finally say and turn back to Charlie.

“Well, of course it’s good to see us!” She laughs. “We’re a joy.”

I can’t help but laugh at that.

“I think I actually saw a flash of red in ‘Son’s’ panel. Were you there?”

“Ah, I only came for like two minutes, because of course the ‘Star Wars’ panel was at the same time and I had to go see Gilda. Sorry…”

“Don’t be,” I tell her honestly. “If I had a chance - I’d have gone to see the ‘Star Wars’ panel too. Did you like it? Was it good?” I ask turning to Dean.

“How the hell should I know?” He frowns. “I was at your panel.”

“Why? I mean ‘Star Wars’, Dean. You skipped ‘Star Wars’?”

“I didn’t come here to see ‘Star Wars’, dude. I mean, sure, if it was at a different time I’d have gone to see it, but come on Cas. I came to see your panel.”

“You did?” I ask stupidly. “Um… so I guess you’ve seen the movie?”

“Are you freakin’ kidding me? Of course I saw the movie.” He scoffs as if it’s obvious. It wasn't for me - all my friends called or texted me after the movie came out to congratulate me or just simply to tell me how much they liked it. Not that I believed all of them, because come on - they’re my friends, they have to say shit like that. But Dean never did, so I assumed he either never bothered to see it, or didn't like it. And of course there’s always possibility he didn't want to talk to me. I chose to believe he didn't see it; I find it I’m capable of lying to myself quite well. But he’s here and he went to see the panel, so he probably liked it well enough. So that leaves he just didn't want to talk to me. Well.

“I see. Well alright, I hope you liked it then,” I finally say.

“Geez, Cas!” Charlie pipes in. “The movie’s awesome. I told you like a million times - it’s great. The casting, the acting, the directing - all that, sure - but it’s the story that has people talking. You did good, Cas and it’s pretty obvious a lot of people think so, because now I may be wrong, but wasn't it the strongest opening of the year so far?”,

“I know we did good, Charlie.” I smile. “And I’m not fishing for compliments. I just didn't know Dean’d seen it, is all.”

“We all went together,” she says smiling sheepishly. “For the premier in Boston, you know. I had to do some unsavory stuff to get the tickets for all of us.”

“Somehow I don't doubt that.” I laugh. “Anyway, where are you headed? There’s an afterparty at Four Seasons and I think the ‘Star Wars’ crowd is joining there, isn't it?”

“Yes!” Charlie squeals. “I need to go find Gilda, but how about you and Dean go and we’ll meet you there?”

“I’m okay with that. Dean?”

“I mean if you don't have anything else to do…”

“I was on my way there anyway, so if you’re good to go, we can go together.”

“Alright, that’s settled then. I’ll see you guys there - don't get drunk without me!” She waves and then she’s gone and it’s just Dean and I.

I have a car waiting for me outside, courtesy of the studio, so before long we’re on our way to the hotel.

“So you didn't think I saw your movie?” Dean asks after a somewhat awkward silence.

“I didn't know. Everyone else called or texted me about it and since you didn’t, I figured you probably didn't see it.”

“Oh… Um… I didn't think you’d want to talk to me,” he finally says not meeting my eyes and it’s awkward again. Fuck, it shouldn't be this awkward.

“Um… well… Look, Dean, we both know there’s a lot of history between us, but if nothing else we used to be friends. When I left we both said we’d keep in touch, and I know it’s the kind of thing everyone says and doesn’t do, but I’ve known you for a better half of my life and there’s not going to be a time when I don't want to hear from you. So.”

“I’m sorry I didn't call,” he says finally looking me in the eye. “I wanted to. Your movie’s awesome, Cas, and I wanted to tell you that. And I’m really sorry you thought I wouldn't even go see it.”

“It was either that, or that you didn't want to talk to me. I preferred you not wanting to see the movie,” I say with a smile.

“‘Course I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well good. Then how about we stop walking on eggshells for the rest of the weekend and just be friends again?”

“I’d like that.” Dean grins and then we both are smiling stupidly at each other.

“So, how are you liking Comic Con so far?” I ask at last. “Got your nerd on?”

“You’ve no idea. Fuck, I didn't know it’s gonna be like that. I mean have you seen all those people dressed like your characters? I swear I even saw one wearing your trench coat!”

“Chewbacca, Dean! There were people dressed like full on R2D2 and you notice a trench coat?”

“Well, I expected ‘Star Wars’ cosplayers, I didn't expect to see someone dressed as you!”

“I’m pretty sure they were going for the Constantine look.”

“Right, sure. And Constantine has a notepad, pen behind his ear and a freakin’ name tag saying ‘Castiel Novak, writer’.”

“You’re serious? There was someone seriously dressed like me?”

“I know! I mean granted, he was a scrawny little dude but still.”

“Okay, Dean, you’ve done it. I feel famous.” I laugh.

“You just wait until there’s you shaped doll. That’s when you're famous.”

“You know you can order a you shaped doll at any time, right?”

“Shut up.” 

We laugh again and finally it’s not awkward at all. Finally it feels like years ago when we were actually friends. And this feeling lasts through the entire evening as we get to the party and drink slightly too much and laugh and joke with Charlie and Gilda. And it’s frankly amazing. As the party starts to wind down, Charlie and Gilda leave along with majority of the crowd, but Dean and I stay for one more drink. For me - I just don't want to say goodbye yet and I think he doesn’t either. So we stay, sit at the bar, trade stories about last year, joke around and drink some more.

“Charlie told me she got you into LARP’ing.” I sort of ask.

“Yeah… I mean I don't even know how it happened. One minute I’m teasing her about it and the next thing I know - I’m her handmaiden.”

“Handmaiden?” I laugh. “She never told me what you were. Seriously, handmaiden?”

Dean just shrugs. “She said there were no other positions left and that I had to crawl my way up into something bigger.”

“She has you wrapped around her finger.” I laugh again. “So tell me, do you wear a costume? Is it a frilly little dress?”

“Fuck you!” He scoffs. “I’m not her French maid, okay? It’s a guy costume.”

“Ah, shucks. You’d make a great French maid.” I tease and then realize I’m actually flirting. Fuck.

“If you couldn't get me into a dress, I doubt anyone could.” He grins. “Besides, I'm pretty sure that’s not something Charlie would be interested in seeing anyway.”

“Her loss,” I counter. “And why the hell didn't I get you into a dress? What was I thinking?”

“I think maybe panties were good enough for you?”

“Good enough? Geez, Dean, you know they were much more than good enough. But trust me, I wouldn't mind seeing you in a pretty dress.”

“Yeah?” He asks turning to me fully and in my slightly drunken haze I realize we’re awfully close to each other. When did that happen? “I think I’d let you.”

“Fuck…” I mutter and I don't know who moves first, but the next moment we’re kissing. His mouth is just as hot and soft as I remember, his hands are just as strong and he yields just the same. My hand is on the back of his head, gripping the short strands of his hair and pressing him closer to me as his arms wrap around my waist. 

“Fuck…” He echoes me as we part for a breath. 

“What the hell are we doing?” I mutter.

“Can we not?” he asks quietly still holding me close. “Can we not talk about this right now?” He presses his lips to my neck. “Can we just be?”

I try to shake myself out of it, but it’s so hard. It’s so hard with his lips trailing down my throat and his arms clutching me close.

“You have a family, Dean…” I finally manage. Because it’s not who I am. Because I’ve been on the wrong end of cheating and I know I don't want to cause this pain to anyone else. Because I know just how much it hurts.

“I don’t,” he mutters still not letting me go. “I’ll tell you everything, if you want, but for right now - I’m not with them anymore. I haven't been for a long time.”

I take his face into my hands and force him to look at me. “You’re not in a relationship right now?”

“No. Are you?”

“Nothing serious,” I say and then we’re kissing again. And it’s good, fuck, it’s so good and I’m so thoroughly and utterly screwed. I think we both kind of forget where we are for a moment, because when we hear someone clear their throat loudly we both jump a little bit. The barman’s smirking at us and I shrug apologetically before taking Dean’s hand and leading him out of the bar.

“I have a room here. Do you want to come up with me?” I ask.

“Yes,” he says simply, not letting go of my hand. 

We get to the elevator and up to my room all the while holding hands and not touching any more than that. I can feel this tension between us like a physical thing. It’s thrumming and sparkling and it takes all I have not to jump him then and there. Instead I wait until we’re in my room, but as soon as the door closes behind our backs I have him pressed against it and I’m kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. I trail my lips down the column of his neck as Dean tilts his head back to give me more room. He moans quietly, blush spreading down his neck and just like before I feel it zinging through my entire body. He’s so goddamn hot  and yet so ridiculously shy at the same time. And I’ve missed him, Jesus, have I missed him.

I pull at his t-shirt and he lifts his arms so I can get it out of the way. As soon as it’s off I kiss my way down his chest sucking on his nipples while he shivers and moans. Finally, I hit my knees and I yank his belt open and pull his jeans down. My brain short-circuits for a moment there and I gape at him like an idiot trying to suppress my own moans, because he’s not wearing his usual boxers. Instead I see his hard dick peeking through pretty white lace panties.

“I wanted to feel them today,” he says breathlessly, not meeting my eyes. “It’s been a while and I wanted to feel good.”

“I don't know about you, but this makes me very happy,” I tell him and I lick at the tip of his dick that’s peeking through the waistband of the panties. He groans and grabs the back of my head - not to push me or demand that I sucked him off, but more to hold on to as his knees buckle a little. I cup his length through the panties, wrap my lips around the head and suck enthusiastically. He moans loudly this time and bucks his hips ever so slightly. I push the panties down a little bit and slide down his length until the head of his dick hits my palate. His taste, so familiar and yet so nearly forgotten, hits my tastebuds and I can’t help but moan around his dick as I slide up and down and suckle at the tip.

Suddenly Dean gently pulls me off and takes couple of shuddering breaths. “You gotta slow down. It’s been a while and I don't want it to be over so soon.”

I nod, lick at his dick one last time and stand up to kiss him again. He’s right, after all, I don't want this to be over yet too. We kiss for couple of minutes, before he becomes impatient and pulls my t-shirt off.

“Bed,” Dean grumbles, and we stumble our way across the room to hit the bed, yanking the rest of our clothes off along the way. He keeps his panties on because we both love the feel of them as we fuck, but he gets my boxers off as quickly as he can before we shuffle on the bed holding on to each other and kissing every part of each other’s bodies we can reach.

“How do you want this to go?” I ask as I have him on his back and I’m kissing and licking my way down his stomach. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

“Fuck me,” is what he says. “I want you to fuck me.”

I groan trying to ignore the way his words zing through my body straight to my balls. I’m so hard my dick’s actually twitching by now.

Dean wriggles from under me and flips over to lie on his stomach, spreading his legs and tilting his ass up. “Come on.”

“Jesus, you can’t do this to me - I’m not getting any younger.” I groan again and push a pillow under his hips. “Death by sex with the hottest guy I know. But what a way to go…”

“Could you fuck me before you go?” He grins, wiggling his ass again.

“Well, since you ask so nicely…” I say and we both laugh. I reach for the lube and a condom and pull the panties to one side. Dean grabs my hand suddenly.

“Just be slow down there,” he says suddenly shy again. “It’s been a while.”

I look at him for a few seconds trying to decide if he really wants this.

“We could switch, if you want,” I offer at last.

“What I want is for you to fuck me,” he says firmly. “Just take your time, okay?”

“I’ll go slow,” I promise. “And you tell me if anything feels off, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods. “Now would you please get in my ass?”

“I swear, you are trying to kill me,” I mutter and he chuckles. “Up.” I lift his hips up so he’s on his hands and knees. I run my fingertip down his crack to the puckered entrance and he shudders bodily, sensitive there as ever. I want him to come undone, I want him to lose it, so I spread his cheeks with my thumbs and slowly swipe my tongue around his rim. Dean’s arms buckle on a moan and now he’s resting his head against a pillow, panting and shuddering. He always makes such beautiful noises. 

I lick and suck at his rim until I can feel him relaxing a little and only then I point my tongue and breach him a little. Dean moans loudly and then bites into his fist to stop the noises.

“Don’t,” I tell him. “I want to hear you, don't hide from me.”

He nods distractedly, still lost in sensation, as I go back to licking, sucking and frankly fucking him with my tongue. When he’s loose enough, I lick my thumb and press it slowly in along with my tongue. Dean tenses for just a second, but then relaxes on a shuddering exhale.

“Fuck…” He moans. “So good, Cas, so fucking good…” he babbles, and I push my thumb in and out a couple of times stretching the rim slowly. I haven’t even had a solid hit on his prostate yet, but he’s still babbling and moaning incoherently. Fuck, do I love it.

Finally, I can’t wait any longer, so I pull out with the last swipe of my tongue along his crack. Dean whines in protest, so I bite his ass through the panties in retaliation. I get the lube and condom from the drawer and slick my fingers up.

“Still good?” I ask.

“Fucking amazing, just please, please get on with this.” He whines.

How can I deny him when he begs so prettily? I push my thumb in, slicking him up a little more and then replace it with two of my fingers, stretching him a little with every backwards motion. Dean’s pliant and relaxed, right until I twist my middle finger to find that spot in him to make him scream.

“Cas!” he moans, his hips pushing back against my hand to get my fingers as deep as they can go and so I hit that spot again and again, until he’s whimpering and moaning, his hips undulating without him even realizing it.

“Stop!” He suddenly tenses and I stop immediately, pulling my fingers out.

“You okay?” I ask concerned. 

Dean shudders for a couple of seconds and then exhales slowly. “I don't want to come before you’re even in me,” he says at last and flips to lie on his back. “I almost… Jesus that was… Ah, come on, I’m ready, fuck me.”

I know I have this look on my face that’s sappy as hell, even though I’m turned on beyond belief. He’s a miracle. I shake my head slightly and go for condom. It’s been a while since we used one, not since we got married, but I don’t want to think about that, so I just slide it on and add some more lube.

“It’d be easier for you to be on your stomach.” I tell him, but he shakes his head.

“Wanna see you,” he says and pulls me by the arms, so I’m hovering over him. “Come on, Cas. Want you.”

I shiver at that, but I don't want to let myself think about this too much, so I push the panties out of the way once again and position myself at his entrance. I go slow, as slow as I can muster, given that I’m very much on the brink myself. Dean lifts his legs and wraps them around my waist.

“Ahhh…” He exhales as I slowly bottom out.

“Still good?”

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second,” he whispers and I lean down to kiss him so thoroughly he’s distracted from the initial discomfort. He pulls me down and lets his hands glide down my sweaty back, kissing me and whispering how good it feels between the kisses. Finally, he nods and rolls his hips.

“Move, Cas.”

So I do. I start grinding in him, barest of movements, slight figure eights, until he relaxes even more and I start pulling out and pushing back in slowly. Dean grabs the headboard and starts rocking back and like always, I know he’s actually ready.

I tilt his hips a little, trying to find that spot again and soon Dean is moaning loudly, grinding against me as I fuck into him aiming for his prostate with my every move.

“Yes, fuck, right here!” he babbles and I can feel it building in the very pit of my stomach. I concentrate on him though, trying to drag this out, to make it so good for him, he’d forget anything else.

Finally, I grab his dick and start pumping it in time with my thrusts. Dean shouts and starts thrashing in my arms.

“Fuck, yeah, Cas!” And then he’s coming, tensing and locking up, heaving in shuddering breaths and babbling how good it feels and how perfect it is. I couldn't agree more and I stare at him so lost in pleasure he doesn’t seem to see anything else. He’s a sight - so fucking beautiful and free in his moment of ecstasy that I can’t help but feel it in both my heart and my balls even as I keep thrusting into him and pumping his dick through the aftershocks. Fuck, this is so not good, but before I can start overthinking it, Dean’s eyes finally find me and he nods with a dopey smile on his face.

“Come on, babe, fuck me.”

I try to ignore the endearment I hadn’t heard in a while and start fucking him faster and harder now. 

“Yeah, just like that, you feel so fucking good in me. Ah…” He keeps babbling as I’m speeding up feeling my own orgasm building and building until I thrust deep into him and let go, shuddering and moaning as Dean tenses, his body practically milking me.

“Fuck…” I moan, ever so eloquent.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, brushing my sweaty hair from my face and pulling me down for a kiss. “Fuck is about right.”


	5. It's Complicated

 

##  IT’S COMPLICATED

 

###  August 2016

I ended things with Matt. I know it’s ridiculous, nothing has really changed, but I couldn’t carry on dating him, however casual, after what happened with Dean. And it’s beyond stupid, but I’m really not the kind of guy to keep seeing someone when I know for sure it’s not going anywhere. Besides, I think Matt was starting to hope it would actually become something and frankly that’s just not fair to him. I’m not in a habit of leaving broken hearts wherever I go, so I think I ended it just in time. He was disappointed, but he wasn’t hurt, so I count that as a win.

I know things with Dean are not going anywhere too. I’ve been down this road and I’m not delusional, but the thing is… Fuck, the thing is I still love him.

We spent the rest of that weekend together. I only had one event I had to attend, so other than that we spent the entire time in my hotel bed. I know we should have talked about it, but at the same time I know there wasn’t much to talk about. 

I didn’t ask Dean what happened with Lisa - maybe I should have, but I just didn’t want to know. He didn’t bring it up either, so we didn’t talk about it. I do believe he didn’t lie to me about not being with her anymore and I guess that’s good enough for me. 

We talked about other things like Sam, Ellen and Jo, Dean’s work, even Dean’s car, but we both stayed resolutely clear from subjects that might have dragged up the memories we no longer wanted to remember. We also didn’t talk about the future. In all the ways that mattered, this was just a weekend hookup. 

Except a weekend hookup was not supposed to leave me with a painful feeling of longing and loss as I watched Dean and Charlie get into a cab taking them to the airport. And a weekend hookup was not supposed to make me want to scream and lash out at the emptiness of my own home when I got back. And a weekend hookup was not supposed to leave me feeling lonely and unwanted.

I know I’m being overly dramatic, but the truth is seeing Dean, being with Dean, tore open the wounds I so carefully tried to heal and fuck… I’m bleeding again.

Meg says I built a fort around my heart to keep it from breaking again, and although I tease her about being a damn poet, I guess she’s a little bit right. I don’t let people get close to me anymore - I have friends and colleagues I like and care about, and I had my share of dates and, for the lack of a better word, lovers, but I don’t let any of it become something that could break me. I’m 36 years old, I’ve been dumped and cheated on, I’ve been married and left behind and I think I know how to save myself from any more pain. I’m good at it - I keep my foolish, foolish heart safe enough not to get battered again. But none of it means a fucking thing when I need to guard myself from the one who’s hurt me the most.  I can’t keep myself safe from Dean and the most idiotic thing is that when it comes to Dean - I don’t even want to.

Case in point, proving that I’m a total moron, is the fact that Dean is coming to San Francisco next week. He’s not coming to visit me - he simply has a work thing in Silicon Valley, but he called to tell me about it and I honestly don’t know how it happened, but I offered for him to stay at my place for the weekend. What in the living hell am I doing?

Gabe came to visit me a week ago. He’s very good at getting me talking and before I knew it, I was telling him about Comic Con and Dean and all the things that happened. He was furious, to say the least.

“I… Yes, I know I’m an idiot, Gabriel,” I agreed. Of course I knew. I’d been an idiot for Dean for nearly half of my life now; it was hardly news to me or anyone who knew me.

“Well, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He flailed his arms exasperatedly. “I mean seriously, Cassie! How many times has that dick broken your heart by now?!”

“Three,” I told him calmly and marveled privately how I’d become someone who could discuss his foolish, battered heart so serenely. “But don’t forget that it was I who let him come back and do it again every time.”

“Well, that’s my point exactly! You’re an idiot for him, Cassie, and you fucking need to stop! How many times do you have to come to me shaking all over and telling me he’s broken your heart?”

“I love him,” I said simply and I know it doesn’t excuse anything in Gabe’s book, but it pretty much excuses everything in mine. “I love him and that’s that.”

“Look, Columbo, I know you’re a teensy little bit crazy for that special snowflake, but even you have to know this is not what love is supposed to be!”

“No? And what is it supposed to be? Flowers and giggles?”

“It’s shits and giggles, Cassie, and no.” Gabriel sighed. “But it sure as hell is not your boyfriend dumping you for a cheerleader over a freaking gay panic; and it’s sure as hell not you calling off your wedding a week to the damn thing because of what that dick did to you; and it’s definitely not your husband leaving you for another family he found while married to you! And dammit, Cassie, it’s not you screwing your ex husband while he’s still with said family!” 

“No?” I smiled, if somewhat sadly. “Sure sounds like a love story to me…”

“Jesus, Cassie! What the hell is wrong with you? I mean seriously - you deserve so much better than him. He cheated on you and then he left you and you… Why? Seriously, why?”

“Well... I think there is something wrong with me, Gabe,” I acquiesced after a long silence. “I know I should be long over him. I know I should have never married him and I sure as hell know I shouldn’t have slept with him at Comic Con, but there’s just something in me that can’t help but want him. And you’re right, this… What we have or had between us, is not a love story. If it were a love story, Dean would have realized he loved me enough. He’d have realized that losing what we had was a mistake. He’d have come to me to try to make it work. And he’d have finally accepted that being a family is not some fantasy of perfectly cut happily ever after. So no, Gabe, it’s not a love story. It’s a crack in my chassis. It’s him being it for me and me not being it  for him.”

“You need to get over him, Cassie. I know you love him and I get it - you two had been together for a long time, but seriously, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You need to get it through that thick skull of yours that you and him are over and then move on, for heaven’s sake!”

“You think I don’t know that?” I asked, getting frustrated. “You think I don’t know this was a mistake and that I’m just making it so much harder for myself? You think there’s anything you can tell me that I hadn’t told myself by now? I know all those things, Gabe. I know I have to let it go and I know I should do whatever it takes to get over him. For fuck’s sake, I thought I did that when I left my whole life behind and moved here. It’s been nearly two years, I thought I was done! But all he has to do is look at me and I’m… Fuck.”

There were more things said and more painful memories dredged up, but in the end I don’t think it made the slightest difference. I know Gabe was right, I know I should let go of my past and move on, but knowing it and actually doing it is not the same. And so Dean is coming to visit me next week.

 

“Woah!” Dean exclaims looking around as I let him in. “Being a hotshot movie guy sure pays a lot.”

“It’s rented, Dean. And the studio pays for it,” I laugh. “Besides, I’m pretty sure being a hotshot NASA engineer is not too shabby too.”

Dean’s right, of course. The house I live in for the duration of the movies being made is sure impressive. Ten bedroom house with four bathrooms, a swimming pool, jacuzzi and a back yard to fit a tennis court. Impressive, sure, but frankly all it does is remind me I’m mostly alone. Besides, I would much rather have an apartment, but it’s San Francisco and the studio rents it, so… 

“I got lucky, is all…” Dean says uncomfortably. “You know that.”

“Really? Because I thought you’re coming back from the meeting in Silicon Valley, where you were supposed to discuss the neutron engine you invented and the possibility of it being used not only for NASA and the military, but also civil engineering. But hey, sure, it’s dumb luck you stumbled on an invention that might change the world, anybody could’ve done it. I can’t believe I didn’t do it myself.” I can’t believe he’s still so unsure of himself. He’s brilliant and it seems to me the whole world knows it except Dean. It pisses me off.

“Come on, Cas…” Dean mumbles.

“No, you know what - we’re not married anymore and I don’t have to take care of your fucking sensibilities, so shut up and finally accept that you, my friend, are not just smart or talented. You are highly intelligent, bordering genius, and you deserve all the recognition and success. It’s not luck, Dean, and it never was. You did it. You made it.”

Dean looks down at his feet and blushes brightly, shaking his head. 

“Yes, Dean, you are and you did,” I reiterate before he can say anything, “and I’m stupidly, incredibly proud of you.”

“Okay, okay, enough of this,” he mutters. “You know I hate it when you start talking like that.”

“And you know I hate it when you keep putting yourself down. If you can’t be proud of yourself, I’ll do it for you and there’s literally nothing you can do about it.”

He scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Fine. Now you wanna show me around or do we keep standing in the hallway and braiding our hair?”

“Panties, twist?” I tease laughing. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Getting Dean settled in one of the guest bedrooms is somewhat awkward, because we both know there’s a high chance he won’t end up using it, but we go through the charade anyway. It’s easier showing Dean around after that and he makes appreciative whistles and sighs along the way.

“What could you possibly need a 10 bedroom house for?” He asks when we settle in the living room with couple of beers and sandwiches.

“Orgies,” I reply seriously, watching his eyes bulge out. And then we’re off laughing again.

“Smartass,” he wheezes.

“You’d think so, but trust me, the stories I hear at work… Orgies might not be the worst thing that happens in these studio houses.”

“I hope they sanitized all the surfaces before you moved in.” 

“I had cleaners coming over anyway, just to be on a safe side. So tell me, how did your meeting go? When will I see you on the Fortune 500 magazine?”

“Come on… I mean… It went okay, I think. Sam came with me, because most of it was legal mumbo jumbo and I really didn’t want to get too much into it. The engine itself is patented and is already in use, so it’s not like I was selling an idea - they already know what it can do and how it works. But they can’t use it because it’s mine and they mostly wanted to talk legal terms. I actually think Sammy twisted them into a tight knot, even though their team was like 10 lawyers.”

“Yes, Sam’s good at that. I’m really glad he came with you then - those corporate guys sure know how to bullshit their way around and before you know it - they own you.”

“Yeah, Sam said the same when I mentioned the meeting. He actually drafted the whole contract before coming over and we went through it step by step. In ballpark - all the rights remain mine and the most they can get is my permission to use but not modify my engine with pretty hefty payment at that. I never thought they’d go for it, but Sam said they wouldn’t have a choice and it turns out he was right. They want to make some minor amendments to the contract, but Sam will go through them and only approve of some insignificant ones. Anyway, watching him work his magic on them was a highlight of my day - exactly what I needed after the stupid flight. God, I hate flying.”

“What else is new?” I laugh. “Where is Sam, by the way? Why didn’t he come with you?”

“Jess and the kids came with us and they wanted to visit her family - Jess’ parents don’t get to see their grandkids that often, so they used the opportunity to spend a few days with them in LA.”

“That’s good. Although I really would like to see them, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, we talked about it. If you’re okay with that, they can come over tomorrow evening. Jess’ parent will look after the kids and I think Sam and Jess could use a night out.”

“Sure, sounds good.” I smile. “Knowing Jess, I guess I should get the hot tub ready.”

“You better.” Dean laughs. “So what are our plans for tonight? We’re staying in?”

“If you don’t mind. I got an early call tomorrow morning, so a wild night might not be the best idea.”

“It’s okay. I’m pretty beat - travelling with kids and then the meeting like that sure takes a lot. And I’m not getting any younger.”

“You’re 36, get over yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, movie night?”

And movie night it is. We settle on a couch with a bowl of popcorn and more beers. Dean insists on watching ‘Wayward Sons’ and after some back and forth, I agree. Dean’s enthusiastic about it, commenting on his favorite parts and about the parts he’d imagined differently when reading the book and I supply some fun facts and behind the scenes bits. It’s late, though, so it’s not surprising we quiet down in the middle of the movie and then nod off by the end of it. 

When I wake up a few hours later, it’s to Dean’s head on my shoulder and his hand fisted in my t-shirt. He’s snoring lightly, but I can see it’s nowhere near comfortable for him, so I shake his shoulder lightly.

“What?” He groans sleepily as I extricate myself from under him.

“Come on, your back and neck will thank you tomorrow for getting into an actual bed.” I grab his hand and help him up.

“Don’t wanna,” he mumbles groggily.

“Trust me, Dean, you’ll appreciate it tomorrow.”

He wraps his arms around me and lays his head on my shoulder. “Okay.”

I walk him to the guest room, but he clings to me. “Can I… please?”

Yes, well, I guess I’ll never be able to say no to him. So I walk us to my bedroom and within minutes we strip down to our boxers and climb into my bed. 

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean mutters, laying his head back on my shoulder and wrapping his arms around me. And just as I’m about to nod off as well, I feel him nuzzle my neck and mutter, “I miss you.” It might have been a dream, though.

 

I wake up to the smell of coffee and a hand on my shoulder.

“Morning,” I mutter and yawn.

“You said you had an early start, so… Coffee?”

“Yes, very much so.” I nod trying to keep my eyes open. Dean chuckles.

“Still not a fan of mornings?”

“Still too damn chipper for this ungodly hour?” I glare.

“Come on, sunshine. Get your damn fix so we can talk like normal people.”

“You’re lucky you come bearing coffee,” I mutter and take a sip. It’s weird to have him here. It reminds me of the years we spent together and that reminder still hurts. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Dean says slowly and I can see he’s embarrassed.

“Not like I didn’t want you here.” I shrug. 

“I…” he starts, but I interrupt at once.

“Let’s not, Dean.”

He watches me for a little while and then sighs. “I want to talk to you.”

“Can we not do this now? I need to go to work soon and I can’t start this now just to leave it unfinished.”

“No, I get it. But… Will you please listen to me later? You don’t have to say anything, but I really need to get this out.”

“Do you really have to?”

“Yeah, I really do. I won’t, if you don’t want that. It’s up to you, Cas. But there are things I want you to know and they’re not meant to hurt you, but maybe they’ll help you understand…”

“Jesus…” I groan. “It’s way too early for this sort of conversation. I liked you better when you were all cuddly and snoring on my shoulder.”

Dean laughs at that and the tension finally dissipates. 

“I always knew you preferred octopus Dean.”

“Never made a secret of that. You’re cute when you’re all cuddly.”

I can see the tips of Dean’s ears redden and chuckle lightly. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, Dean, I know I’m irresistible to cuddle on.”

“And then you say I have problems with modesty.”

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” I ask grinning.

“Fuck. You.” He hisses, but it’s rendered obsolete, because the next moment he scoots over to me in bed and drapes his arms around me leaning his head on my shoulder. “Happy now?”

“Are you?” I counter.

“Yeah…” He mutters reluctantly and sighs when I push the fingers of my free hand through his strands.

“We’re being idiots,” I tell him and press a soft kiss to his temple.

“Not the first time for us,” he agrees and then kisses me fully. I manage to think ‘this is so not…’, but then he’s taking the coffee from my hand and putting it on the bedside table.

“How much time do you have?” He asks me, his voice low and husky.

“Not enough for what I want to do to you.”

“Hmm… But maybe enough for what I want to do to you?” Dean rolls us over and thoroughly reminds me how much he actually likes sucking dick and how impressively good he is at that. The fact that he gets off doing it is an incredibly welcome bonus, because I don’t think there are that many things I’d rather see than Dean on his knees, sucking me off and moaning as he jerks off at the same time. The fact that he looks at me with warm and affectionate eyes and lets me take him to shower and wash him afterwards gets me just as hard in the heart as his earlier ministrations did to my lower regions. Jesus freaking christ, I’m so fucked.

 

I take Dean to work with me and amuse myself to no end as I watch him blush and stutter upon meeting ‘Doctor Sexy’. The actor’s name is Cole and in my humble opinion he’s a douchebag to rival all douchebags, but I have to admit he’s hot as hell and no doubt Dean’s long standing infatuation with Doctor Sexy contributes to him making an adorable fool of himself. 

I start feeling a little bit differently when Cole starts flirting right back, but I tell myself I have no right to be jealous all of the sudden and that maybe it’s for the best and all the other bullshit I can come up with so I can continue with my work. I don’t have to try for very long though, because not even twenty minutes later Dean comes to see me in my office with a thoroughly irritated expression on his face.

“What a colossal douche!” He groans flopping on a chair beside me.

“I take it your encounter with ‘Doctor Sexy’ didn’t go the way you imagined?” I grin, relieved and annoyed with myself for being relieved.

“I mean I’ve heard people saying he’s a douche, but come on!”

“So what did he do? It’s my understanding he only starts being a douche if he’s not interested in someone or after he’s had sex with them. From what I’ve seen, definitely not the former and it really was too little time for the latter.”

“Oh, he’s interested, alright. He actually invited me to his trailer to, and I quote, ‘put these cocksucking lips to the use God intended for them’, end quote.” Dean shudders bodily. As far as Cole goes, it’s not even the worst I’ve heard though.

“Well… In his defense - and trust me, I’m not defending Cole - he does seem to get away with shit like that more often than not.”

“That’s not even the worst!” Dean bursts out, “I told him I was here with you and the dick said it was good and maybe I’d be able to finally yank you off your high horse and convince you to have a threesome with us. Like I was a done deal! And like you would ever look at the douche like that! I mean who even says shit like this?”

“Cole, apparently.” I chuckle. “Welcome to the glorious world of Hollywood, Dean. Cole’s been pissed at me from the first day we met, because I very much told him to go fuck himself after he propositioned me for a bigger role. I mean he is hot, but Jesus, does the personality offset it nicely!”

“Yeah, you don’t say. Way to ruin a perfectly good fantasy…” He groans. “I told him to go fuck himself too, when he started whining about you being an uptight prude.”

“In Cole’s world, there’s something wrong with everyone who doesn’t want to sleep with him, so…”

“Perfectly good fantasy…” Dean repeats and then grabs my hand in both of his. “I’m so happy you didn’t become like that, you know? I bet people are throwing themselves at you too, but you’re… You’re just so normal, so you!”

“Dean, you do realize I’m just the writer? People throw themselves at actors, not writers. Besides, I don’t really go for things like that. I very much prefer to know the people I sleep with.”

“Yeah, well, don’t ever change.”

I smile at him and just like that we’re kissing again. As I said - I’m fucked.

 

By the time we’re driving home, I’m both dreading and can’t wait for the conversation that I know will happen as soon as we’re home.

I think Dean had a good day - he chatted with other actors, especially the ones who actually are worth chatting with. I have been very happy with the casting of my two main characters. Those guys, although they do enjoy goofing around the set slightly too much, are actually great guys and real life friends by now. So I introduced them to Dean and they seemed to hit it off nicely. By the time we broke for lunch, all four of us went to the canteen together and actually had a pretty good time, laughing and teasing each other. 

I also showed Dean around the different sets we’d been shooting in. Dean’s fascinated with the movie industry - he had always like movies so I think it was a little bit like Disneyland for him. So yes, I think he had a good day, but now we’re driving home and I can feel this tension rising between us. 10 minutes into the drive home, Dean suddenly sighed as if resigned and grabbed my hand, twining our fingers together. When I looked at him, he shrugged, embarrassed, but didn’t let go. I had to work hard to keep myself from smiling.

 

“Well, this is awkward,” Dean grumbles when we’re finally at home and fidgeting around each other. We’ve come home and it seems we can’t find a thing to say to each other or even meet one another’s eyes anymore. I can’t stand this anymore than he can, so now I sigh resignedly, “Okay, so let’s get this over with. Let’s talk like normal people and maybe then it won’t be as awkward anymore.”

Dean looks at me for a moment longer and then says, “Kitchen?”

Yes, it’s always been kitchen. So we go there and sit by the counter finally looking at each other.

“Look, Cas…” he starts, “I have to get this out, so please, if you can, just listen to what I have to say and we can talk about it after, but I’m afraid that if I stall and you interrupt me, I won’t be able to say everything, so if you can, please… Just listen, okay?”

“Okay.” I say simply and brace myself for whatever it is I’m about to hear. It can’t be easy for Dean to get it out - he’s never been the one to talk to begin with, much less the ‘touchy feely crap’ as he used to call it, so I will do my best to just listen. 

“Okay, so… I guess I should start by saying you were right. That night you told me you filed for divorce, you said a lot of things I couldn’t accept then and there was part of me that thought it was a load of crap. I remember being so goddamn angry at the time. I just… Crap, I had all of this speech ready for when you’d listen, but I’m butchering it… Okay, let me start over.”

He takes a deep breath to compose himself then.

“So, I’ll start with some of the things you said to me when you said you filed for divorce. There were a lot of things I had to accept straight away, like the fact that I’d been neglecting you and our marriage for a long time, or that I was so absorbed in my bullshit and the thing I had with Lisa and Ben that I didn’t even notice how unhappy you’ve gotten. You only gave me a couple of examples, but I think that was more than enough, because it opened a floodgate for me and all I could think of is all the things I did or didn’t do. So accepting that you were unhappy in our marriage and that it was my fault was not hard. It was glaringly obvious and I just couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it in time to actually do something about it.”

I want to interrupt and tell him it wasn’t all his fault, that I had my faults in it as well, but he sees I’m about to say something and shakes his head minutely. I keep my mouth shut.

“But you see, there was something else you said and it kind of blew my mind at the time. You told me I never considered our family a real family and that I would always want a wife and child. And I just couldn’t accept that. In my head, I’d done this part right - I had married you after all. If I had wanted a wife, surely I wouldn’t have married you. And it didn’t make sense to me that you’d think that. Yeah, I sort of got it - I kind of left you to be with Lisa and Ben, but you see, I told you the truth - I never wanted Lisa. And since I didn’t, it didn’t make sense to me that you’d think that. I thought I’d just screwed up. I spent too much time with a friend and her kid and let it affect my own family, but I never wanted Lisa and I never wanted them to replace you. So I convinced myself it was your hangup, not mine. You were the one that kept telling me I wanted a ‘real family’. You were the one who wouldn’t accept that I chose you to be my family and you left me for it in the end.”

He laughs sadly and shakes his head.

“See, Cas? I managed to be a dick to you even after you left me.” Again, I want to interrupt and tell him I don’t think he was being a dick, but Dean plows on.

“So long story short - I told myself that it’d make sense. You left me so convinced I’d go to Lisa and be happy with her, that it made sense in my head to go ahead and do it and prove you right.

And that’s exactly what I did. I went to Lisa and bitched about you leaving me for no reason, that we hit a rough patch and you weren’t willing to fight for us, that you didn’t care enough to put in effort and all that cliche bullshit all married men say to other men or women they want to have an affair with. How unappreciated I was in my marriage and how hard it was for me…”

He shakes his head again with a cynical smile on his face.

“There are a few things I actually hate myself for - letting you go is one, and then how I handled things with Lisa and the things I said to her is the other. Sometimes I still can’t believe I did that… But the truth is, Cas, I was so mad at you then… So goddamned pissed I lost you I never stopped to think why it happened and what the hell was wrong with me!”

“Dean…” I can’t help myself.

“No, please… I have to…” He begs and I just nod.

“Anyway… Lisa took me in. You were right about this too - she did have feelings for me by then and she wanted to give it a go… So two months after you left, I moved in with them. But you see, Cas… I didn’t lie to you about one thing - I never wanted Lisa. We lasted six months before I moved out again and those six months were the worst of my life. Not because they were bad, but because no matter how hard all three of us tried, it was never going to work, because at the end of the day, I just wanted you.

It was easy to be with them when I knew that I’d go home to you in the evening. It was easy to take them to lunches and their events and Ben’s practises and all those things, when I knew I had you waiting for me at home and that I’d come back and you’d kiss me and I’d fall asleep by your side. It was so goddamn easy to play family, when I had the love of my life waiting for me at home to finally come back and be with him. But when you had enough and left, when all I had was this make believe family, it wasn’t easy anymore, because all I wanted was to come back home to you. All I dreamt of was going back and having you wrap your arms around me so I could finally be home.”

Dean hides his face in his hands at that and I can’t help but wrap my arm around his shoulders. He sobs quietly and I suddenly realize I have tears in my eyes as well.

“I made such an awful mess out of everything, Cas… I hurt you and I hurt them and… Fuck, I’m just so sorry for it all…”

I kiss his temple and pull him into a proper hug.

“You have to let it go,” I say as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. “You’ve been hurt enough, you have to let it go.”

Dean sobs again.

“I wish I could… I’m just so sorry, Cas.”

“And I’ve forgiven you. Dean, for what it’s worth, I’ve forgiven you and you have to forgive yourself.”

Dean extricates himself from me.

“I went to Pamela. When I saw I was hurting Lisa and Ben, I went to Pamela hoping she could get my head straight and help me out.”

“Did she?” I ask with a small smile. Pamela was always good at setting Dean straight.

“Yeah… Just not the way I’d hoped. When I went to her, I thought she’d tell me to toughen up and try being the man Lisa and Ben needed, but instead… Instead she asked me what happened with our marriage and little by little I’d told her everything. I told her how pissed at you I was and that you’d left me without fighting for us and… Well, you know therapy. One minute I’m bitching about you and the next I realize you had been right all along.”

“I wasn’t…”

“I know. And it’s something I also want to talk to you about, but you were right to call me on my bullshit about families. There was always part of me, Cas, that deep down believed that real family is a man and a wife and couple of kids. I envied Sam and Jess, you know? I thought Sammy had got it right - he married his sweetheart and had a real family while I let the wrong part of me take over. I never blamed you for that - I know you did, but I never did. I blamed myself for ending up with you. You were right to tell me you could’ve never competed with a fantasy, because that’s exactly what we had both been up against - a fantasy. That part of me believed that whatever we had could never be as good, as perfect as this imaginary life I created in my head. But I never blamed you. I was happy, Cas. You made me happy.”

“Not enough,” I tell him quietly.

“No, but that wasn’t on you. It was on me. I should’ve stayed in therapy, because sooner or later Pamela would’ve digged deep enough to see it. Because you must know this - it’s just another hangup I have courtesy of my dad.”

“I take it she finally digged it up?”

“Oh, yeah, she did. So I go to her to get my head straight and carry on with my oh so happy life with a family I always wanted, just to realize I actually had a family I always wanted all along and let it go to waste.”

“Then she shouldn’t have done this, Dean. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a specific family.”

“Isn’t it, though? Even if it’s just in my head?”

“Even so. I always knew you preferred women, Dean. Even if not sexually, then definitely emotionally and that’s just as important. You, Dean, wanted to get married to a nice girl and have a couple of kids. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“No, there isn’t. But if I really wanted that I should have goddamned done it! Instead, I fell in love with you and was perfectly happy to string you along, date you and live with you until I finally married you, when I still supposedly wanted a wife. I mean not for nothing Cas, but you are as far from a wife as it goes. Having your dick in my ass every other night should have clued me in.”

“I blamed myself for that, you know? For not putting a stop to it. I knew you wanted a wife, but I loved you and… And I kept telling myself that perhaps I could make you happy enough. Perhaps you’d one day see it doesn’t have to be a wife, it could be a husband as well. I shouldn’t have done it, Dean. I should have let you go a long time ago.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. If anything, you should have kicked my ass and dragged me to Pamela, because, Cas… You knew I loved you. You knew you meant everything to me, but as soon as I got lost in my head, you let me go. You knew this about me - you knew I had a skewed perception of families, but you still let me go.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you finally found what you were looking for and you’d finally be happy. Truly happy, Dean.”

“But you knew! You knew I loved you. You knew I didn’t love Lisa. You knew I wouldn’t be happy without you!” Dean exclaims in an anguished voice and I just stare at him dumbly.

“But… I didn’t,” I tell him at last. “How the hell was I supposed to know? You left our marriage for them. You left me alone! You were never there, always away. And I knew they were the kind of family you always longed for. How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t be happy with them? I left so you could be happy with them. Finally, truly happy after I held you back for so long!”

“No! No, no, no! Cas! You never held me back! You are the best thing that ever happened to me, but because of all the bullshit I went through with my dad, I wasn’t capable of seeing it. You were right when you told me you thought I didn’t appreciate what we had. Because I didn’t, but that wasn’t on you. You made it so good for me that I chose you despite all the bullshit in my head. You made me feel loved and… I don’t even know, important maybe. Like I mattered. Like I was worth more than I ever thought I was. But what I did… Cas, I made you feel worthless, when you’re nothing but. And that’s something I can’t forgive myself.”

“Stop that, Dean. I forgave you already. You did the best you could. You loved me regardless the circumstances your father inflicted on you and regardless what you thought was right. I will never regret the time we spent together. You made me the happiest man alive. You truly, honestly made me very happy, Dean.”

“You too. You made me very happy too. And I’m sorry it took losing you to finally realize just how good things were.”

“Well… It is what it is, Dean.”

“Yes, but… Cas… Do you… I mean… I’m still… Cas!” He huffs exasperated and as always, I take pity on him.

“Yes, I do.” I tell him simply.

“I do too. So much.”

“Yeah?” I ask, unable to keep hope out of my voice.

“So much, Cas, so much…” Dean mutters and wraps my hand into the both of his.

“Where does that leave us?”

“Um… screwed?” He smiles shakily.

I laugh at that. “Well, there’s that… But, I mean… Fuck, Dean, do you want to give it another shot? Is that what’s happening here?”

“Would you? Would you really?” He asks, his eyes shining brightly. “I’d do anything for one more shot. Anything.”

“Are you sure? And I mean absolutely sure, Dean? Because I really don’t think I can do it again if you’re not. It’s already been too many times that I had to pick myself up after it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sure. I’ve never been surer. More sure? Whatever. I’m positive, Cas. I know I made you promises before, promises I wasn’t very good at keeping, but I swear to you, Cas, I’m positive this time. I’ll fucking die before I let you get hurt again. I swear, Cas!”

“If you die, I will be supremely pissed at you, Dean,” I say with a smile and Dean chuckles.

“So does that mean… Can we try again? Really?”

“Yes, Dean. It means we can try one last time and I hope for both of our sakes, we won’t screw it up this time.”

“Never,” he promises, and then I’m enveloped into a bone crushing hug. And so here I am, kissing the man I love and hoping against hope that this time it will work out, that this time we can finally be happy together and that this time I won’t have to pick myself up after yet another heartbreak. And the craziest thing is that after all this time and after all the times that we didn’t actually work, I still believe we will finally work out.


	6. Everafter

##  EVER AFTER

###  November 2017

 

“Dean, come on, hurry up!” I yell as the limo outside our house blares the horn once again. We bought the house six months ago, when Dean told me he was sick of living inside the rented one probably four months after he moved to San Francisco so we could finally live together again, but I still get the giddy feeling whenever I think of it as ‘our house’.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he shouts back and I hear the hurried footsteps coming down the stairs. “Sorry, sorry, I’m ready, babe, let’s go!”

“You will be the death of me, Dean,” I grit out and try to ignore that no matter how stressed I am and how long we’ve actually been together, seeing him in a tux still makes me weak in the knees. Dean simply comes over and wraps his arms around me. 

“I know you’re worried, babe, but the movie’s great and people are going to love it.”

“You say so, but how many sequels do you know that are actually as good as the original movies?”

“Not many,” he concedes, kissing my temple. “But your movie is not a simple sequel made so studios could get their hands on more money. Your movie is based on a sequel to the book. A sequel that had been highly successful. And also, Cas, the movie had double the budget the original had, so trust me - people are going to love it.”

“Budget is not the only thing that makes a movie a success,” I grumble.

“I know. But you know that the cast, direction and the effects were amazing.”

“Yeah, but what if I screwed up?”

“Cas, babe, seriously… If anything, the writing was the best part. So stow the crap, kiss me and let’s go see people be flabbergasted by how amazing you are!”

I take a deep breath and kiss him.

“Well, even if they’re not - I still made a shit ton of money on the movie and have a contract for another two books, one of which is halfway done. So you’re right, I’m stressing over nothing. So let’s go, watch the movie one more time, get hammered and come back home so I can fuck you to next Sunday.”

“Now there’s the Cas I know and love.” Dean laughs and kisses me. “Let’s go, babe, your fans are waiting.” To which I just scoff.

Dean is right, though. The premiere is much more successful than I could have imagined, and the reviews praise everything - from acting, to directing, to special effects and costumes, and finally writing. But it’s not the reviews I remember. Not the applause after the screening and not the hordes of people coming over to congratulate me. No.

What I remember the best is Dean leaning over in the middle of the screening, kissing the corner of my mouth and asking a question I longed to hear for some time now as he was pressing a small round object into my hand.

“Will you have your happily ever after with me?” He’d asked.

“Always,” I told him, feeling him slip the ring on my finger. Now if that’s not a love story, then I don’t know what it is. Imperfect as it may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is. I hope you enjoyed the ride. It's been very emotional journey for me, writing this story. Therapeutic even. So I hope you liked it, despite the a few punch in the gut moments along the way. Thank you for reading it! L.


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